


STRANGER

by stxrmborn



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Sexual Assault, Character Death, Erotica, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Original Character(s), Romance, Sexual Tension, Time Travel, True Love, a lot of romance, also this was first posted on my wattpad account, and now i'm posting it here too, bare with me, but as someone who isn't really a fan of jonsa i promise there is no implied jonsa :))))), but some people have criticized me for hinting at it (and maybe it is there only to create drama), fast burn, jaia, no jonsa i promise, season 5, season 6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-09 14:54:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 40
Words: 56,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8895094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stxrmborn/pseuds/stxrmborn
Summary: "We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy." - Aemon Targaryen
In the spring-time of 2016, Maia Sanders was content in where her life was heading. At just twenty-two years old, she already had her future planned out. She was to get married to her fiancé, Derek, in just a few months and she was working her dream job as a kindergarten teacher after graduating from college. Everything was going perfectly, and Maia was sure nothing could mess it up.
To celebrate their wedding coming up, Derek's parents had surprised the couple with a short, three-day trip for Washington to relax before the big day. During her vacation, Maia happens upon a tree with a special spiritual connection and before she can catch herself, her whole vision turned black.
What was a modern-day girl to do when waking up in a world full of swords, never-ending winter, and several families vying for a throne to rule all? Try to get back to her own time as soon as possible. Maia was always a planner for the future, but even she couldn't have predicted to form bonds with people of the Seven Kingdoms.
Here is the tragic love story of Maia Sanders and Jon Snow.





	1. PREDICTIONS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A perfect life comes with a not-so-perfect destiny. This is only the beginning...

   
 

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER ONE

#####  **__________________________**

**"HAPPY** birthday!" Maia cheered while resting her cell on her shoulder. "I'll see you later, okay?"

With a flick of her hand, she ended the call with her best friend, Caroline, and walked in the direction of her favorite coffee shop. Today was already a good day, for it had started off with seeing her favorite children at the kindergarten she worked and now she was going to have a simple coffee date during her lunch hour with Derek, also known as the only man she would like to marry in the upcoming months.

She opened the shop's door, smelling the familiar aroma of coffee beans and chai tea. After ordering her usual – a medium vanilla swirl latte – Maia stood by the pick-up station, and before she could reach for her cup, a pair of hands folded around her eyes.

"Guess who?"

Maia chuckled. "Well, let's see: large hands, chubby fingers, the smell of Justin Timberlake's cologne ... I'm gonna take a wild guess and say it's Derek."

She grabbed her cup when her name was called and turned to her fiancé, who stood before her with a sly grin. "You're not funny," she sneered as Derek reached for his own coffee, which he must have ordered while she wasn't looking.

"I happen to think I'm hilarious," he smirked, leading her over to their favorite table, right by the huge window on the right of the shop. "So, I must give you the recap of _Game of Thrones_ from last night."

Maia rolled her eyes at Derek's obsession. Each week, he told her what happened on his favorite HBO show, and although at one point she was curious about it, she saw no point in watching it anymore when Derek told her the details of every episode.

She barely got a word in during his whole ramble, because he was too busy repenting his awe at all of the characters. When he finally finished his recap, she realized he used up all the time they had. "Wow, that Dany chick seems like a boss," she laughed while throwing away her empty cup. "I'd love to stay, but I have to get back to work."

Derek pouted out his bottom lip before escorting her out of the shop. "Those kids don't need you."

"Sadly, they do," she replied with a frown. "By the way, you'll be having dinner alone tonight. It's Caroline's birthday today and I promised I'd go out drinking with her."

"And now you're leaving me for Caroline?" Derek scoffed. "I thought you were the Catelyn to my Ned?"

Maia scrunched up her brow and kissed the cheek of her fiancé. "I don't know what that means."

**__________________________**

Several beers and about three shots later, both Maia and Caroline were completely drunk. Luckily, Maia had a higher tolerance than her best friend so she could actually think clearly, but Caroline was off her rocker. The girl was known to be a crazy drunk.

After being kicked out of a bar for their loud behavior, the two girls stumbled down the empty sidewalks, laughing about who knows what. Caroline, being the more intoxicated of the two, was practically being carried by her friend when they both noticed the lit up sign ahead of them. "What's that?" Caroline questioned in an excited tone.

Maia squinted her eyes, almost dropping Caroline as she strained to see through her blurry vision. "I think it's a psychic."

"We should go!" Caroline began hitting her best friend's shoulder when she gave her a look. "C'mon, I don't want to go home yet!"

With a sigh, Maia agreed and the pair started to trudge over to where the building sat. As they approached the door, it immediately opened, revealing a frail-looking woman with wild eyes.

"Hi," Maia huffed out, "we just – um – we saw your sign –"

"I knew you were coming." The elder woman dismissed. "It's quite alright. Please, come inside."

Maia raised her brow in her friend's direction, who was pushing her forward into the small room. Inside, there was a small table with three stools surrounding it, fancy tapestries adorning the walls, and incenses lit amongst the room. "Do you want to sit?" The woman asked, bringing Maia away from her thoughts.

Both girls nodded as all took seats around the table. "My name is Edna and you have come for a palm reading, I presume?"

Caroline drunkenly chuckled. "Uh –"

"So who wants to go first?"

Maia looked from Caroline to Edna, realizing she was closer to the elder. "I guess I will."

Edna gestured for Maia's hand, and the blonde soon reached out. The older woman immediately grasped it, making Maia tense up the tiniest bit. "Interesting," Edna whispered to herself. "The lines on one's hand say a lot, you know."

Even though her intoxicated mindset, Maia grew curious. "How is that so?"

"Different lines talk about your path through life." Edna pointed to one on the right of her hand. "This speaks about children. The line is short, meaning you will one to no children."

Maia wasn't exactly bothered by it. She got to see enough children for her job.

"Now, this one –" she pointed to a line in the middle "– talks of your love life. And it's divided. When it's this way, it counts the number of lovers you'll have through your life."

The blonde looked over at Caroline before continuing her stare onto her palm. The line divided into two parts and she had only ever loved Derek. She only wanted to love Derek, and with her being superstitious, she didn't want this reading to come true.

"Finally, this one is your future timeline, regarding everything as a whole." Edna explained. "For everyone, this line is the easiest to distinguish because it is one solid – that's odd."

Maia's cocked a brow upward. "What?"

"Your line for the future. It's – it's divided." The older woman was surprised at her own words. "Your future is divided into two timelines."

Silence echoed throughout the tiny room. A chill set deep within her bones.

Edna met Maia's eyes then. "I've never seen that on anyone before."

Maia swallowed down the lump in her throat. This wasn't real; she didn't want to believe it. Her suspicious vibe told her Edna's words were true, but how could it be? Things like that didn't happen. The world she lived in wasn't out of a fairy tail.

Snatching her hand away, she seethed, "Well, this is all just a bunch of mumbo-jumbo anyways."

She stood from her seat, practically dragging her friend out of the shop, but not before replying, "Goodnight to you, ma'am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! If this story sounds similar to a certain Jon Snow fan fiction on Wattpad by the same name, that's because it is! I decided to post this story on AO3 too to broaden my horizons, but WP will always come first lol.
> 
> This plot was inspired by Starz' "Outlander," and I hope you'll like all the references I put in this from that. I love both shows so I wanted to combine the two!
> 
> If you wanted to read the original posting of this story on WP (which has more graphic elements added), then here is the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/72255442-stranger-jon-snow
> 
> Book I = Season 5  
> "Jorrāelagon" means "to love, to hold dear, to need" in High Valyrian
> 
> -Victoria


	2. THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia and Derek receive an unexpected gift, that could provide more drama than happiness.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER TWO

#####  **__________________________**

**MAIA** let out a sigh as she pushed open the door to the apartment she shared with her fiancé. She was still reeling from the drunken night out she had with Caroline and she couldn't help but remember the predictions that unfolded from the psychic.

In some way, the fortunes were simple and could be taken any way. But Maia knew deep down, there was _something_ there. She didn't want to believe it, because it was just a prediction from some mediocre psychic. It could have a million meanings and most were things she didn't understand. The palm reading didn't exactly make sense, so why was she worrying about it in the first place?

Pressing a chaste kiss on Derek's cheek, she set her stuff down on the kitchen counter. Before she could release a greeting, he turned to meet her to say, "No dinner here tonight. We're meeting my parents."

Maia let out a scoff. Her fiancé's parents were sweet, but they were always bugging into the couple's personal life.

"What?" Derek asked, stuffing a couple potato chips in his mouth. "You don't like my parents?"

She shook her head. "I didn't say that."

"Oh, c'mon, Catelyn Stark," he smirked, bringing her into a hug. "You know you love my family."

Maia scrunched up her face as she pushed herself away and walked to their bedroom. " _Stop_ calling me _that_!"

**__________________________**

"Surprise!"

Maia sat around Derek's parents' vintage circular table, unfolding the extra large card they had just given the pair. Derek had his arm slung around his fiancé's shoulder, peering to see what the card entailed. His parents, Shelly and Michael, were practically jumping in their seats as they set a dessert on the table.

"Oh," Maia breathed out, "wow."

In truth, she absolutely had no words. The parents had booked a trip for Derek and Maia to stay in a small bed-and-breakfast in the middle of Washington, to celebrate their wedding coming up. Maia wasn't usually fond of them, but even she could admit that she was eternally grateful that they did this for them.

While Michael began to dig into the cake that his wife had set in front of him, Shelly exclaimed, "We thought it could be like an almost-honeymoon for you two. Just so you can relax before the wedding!"

"Thanks, mom." Derek smiled as he took a look at the booking tickets in Maia's hands.

"Yeah, seriously," Maia agreed. "I can't thank you enough for doing this. You both are too sweet to us."

So maybe some of that was a lie, but the thanking that came out of the blonde's mouth was nothing but true.

"And we leave in just a couple of days," Derek stated and read off the tickets. "Well, looks like I have to DVR all my shows."

**__________________________**

That weekend, Derek and Maia finally left for Washington, and she was almost too excited. She needed a vacation, but was a little bit impatient for the honeymoon. She was already stressed about the wedding as it is, so this vacation was definitely something she needed in her life. She didn't care where she was as long as she was spending it with Derek.

The bed-and-breakfast had just one other couple sitting near the fireplace when they walked in, already being greeted by the owner. "Hello, I'm Mrs. Travis," she introduced, shaking both Maia and Derek's hands. "It's so good to meet you both and I hope your stay is satisfactory!"

"We're very happy to be here," Derek grinned as his fiancé wrote their names in the guest book.

Mrs. Travis seemed shocked. "This building is in the middle of nowhere, so it's always good to hear that people are going to enjoy themselves. It's a very relaxing time away."

The host ushered a random teenager who was sitting in the back room forward, scorning him for being on his phone before telling him to take the couple's bags up to their room. Maia and Derek followed him up the stairs, noticing the specific way they creaked with each step. The house looked so old and Derek whispered that it must've been built sometime in the 1900s.

Opening their room's door, the teenager set the bags down on the table located in the middle of the room before walking out. Maia loved the vintage décor. The room was adorned with a king mattress in the front, a fireplace in back with two chairs sitting in front of it, and a balcony that overlooked the beautiful dense fields of the countryside. She couldn't believe that she was being spoiled like this.

She walked out onto the balcony, mesmerized by the scenery that sat in front of her. Different breeds of flowers and weed popped up beneath the tall grass, and Maia could just spot out a running path in the distance. The fresh air blew her long, blonde hair from her shoulders and she relished in the clean scent that wafted from the nature around her.

Looking up to the sky, Maia noticed the dark clouds forming around the sunshine. "Looks like a storm is coming," she sighed. "I was hoping to explore the country today."

"We have three days to do that, and besides, this vacation is supposed to be for relaxation, Mai." Derek replied, wrapping his long arms around her. "This just means we have more alone time, doesn't it?"

Maia spun around in his hold, a sly grin engulfing her features. "I guess so," she agreed before pressing her lips onto her fiancé. Her nimble hands started tugging his short hair as he got the courage to lift her up and away from the balcony.

The second they were inside, the storm commenced.


	3. THE TRAVEL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia takes a unexpected journey.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER THREE

#####  **__________________________**

**JON** Snow had never seen a sight like it before.

As Olly fetched Longclaw for him, the Lord Commander readied his stance before Janos Slynt after the man had rudely disobeyed his orders. Jon tried his hardest to stay focused as the former Commander of the City Watch pled for mercy.

Up above, exactly to the West of where he should've been watching, Jon watched several clouds swirl in a violent motion in the sky. It was almost as if a hole was forming within the air, but Jon knew that to be impossible. A storm was definitely brewing, though that was a daily occurrence at the Wall, so he wasn't the least bit surprised. Although, the fierce and turbulent motion of the sky, that was what scared him.

Jon breathed out. "If you have any last words, my Lord, now's the time."

"I was wrong!" Janos begged as he leaned over the post. "You're the Lord Commander; we all serve you! I'm sorry, not just for this, but for all I've done and said! I was wrong!"

Jon prepared himself, causing his confidence to deteriorate as the lower Commander shivered in front of him.

"My Lord, please! Mercy!"

The Lord Commander stilled.

"I'll go, I will! Please. I'm afraid. I've always been afraid."

Jon felt his face contort into anger. This was a man who had defied him many times before, not just for his growing status, but for his birth right. And finally when he had the authority over him because of one last wrong action, he now cowered before him. It had never made him more infuriated.

He watched the tears fall down Janos' face, and for one split second, Jon admitted he felt pity. But that pity was soon overshadowed by the Commander's past – the way he used to look down on Jon.

And when the Lord Commander's blood began to boil, he swung his sword over his head, slicing Janos' head right off his body.

Blood poured on the ground, staining his boots, as he handed Longclaw to the man beside him. Jon stared at his work, what he had done. He felt no pain or guilt. His stare moved to Stannis Baratheon, who was watching from a balcony in the courtyard. The king nodded his head in approval.

Before removing himself from the premises, Jon took one last look at the storm ahead. If he was intoxicated, he would've sworn he saw the hole in the sky growing deeper and deeper. In the end, it was just a figment of his imagination.

**__________________________**

Derek's kisses from the night before still lingered on Maia's skin, tainting her scent with only him.

She sighed happily as she stood from the mattress, leaning across and kissing her fiancé's sleeping form. Walking towards the balcony, Maia opened the doors and embraced the sweet smell of freshly cut grass. She looked out to see the trail she noticed yesterday, thinking that she could really use a walk on this beautiful morning.

Throwing on a sweater, jeans, and t-shirt, Maia greeted Mrs. Travis a good morning before heading outside. Her memory of last night with her soon-to-be-husband repeated soothingly in her mind as she walked, reminding her that it was her best evening of pure bliss.

It was moments like those that told Maia how special she was to have someone like Derek. From the minute they had met in their freshmen year of college, they were entranced with each other. Derek said it was her brains that fascinated him, but for Maia, she took the superficial approach and fell for his attractive physique. She adored his bright eyes and naturally tanned skin, as if he'd been kissed by the sun. Just like that, it was love at first sight. Although, she would've never imagined that she would be marrying him that long ago. She was too lucky.

When Maia finally came out of her thoughts, she realized she had been walking down the trail for over an hour. She wiped the little amount of sweat on her brow before looking around her surroundings. The grass locked into the ground twirled around her ankles and she smiled at the several patches of dandelions that littered amongst the weeds. But to her right, there seemed to be one piece that stood out to her.

Sitting on a small hill was a large white-barked tree, or so she presumed, that was so tall that Maia was sure it's red leaves reached into the sky. While noticing this, she felt a couple raindrops fall on her head and she sought under the cover of the tree.

Her hand slid down the strange white bark until her eyes found the plaque mounted next to it. The tree had a somewhat spiritual connection to many throughout the 1900s, where people would give their vows of marriage or pleads for peace in front of it, especially during World War II.

The thunder above caused Maia to jump as she watched the droplets of rain pour down, watering the already-damp grass. The sight of the storm in the sky mirrored the one she saw yesterday with the hole in the center of it, startling her. Another roll of thunder shook her to the bone and that was when Maia decided that she should probably head back to the bed-and-breakfast. She didn't want Derek to worry.

As she took one last breath of relief, Maia couldn't have predicted one branch of lighting to strike the heart of the tree as she leaned on the bark. And she most certainly was not expecting to immediately black out.

**__________________________**

Maia woke up to the feeling of soft, icy petals float onto her facial features.

When she had first opened her eyes, all she saw was the trees above. They were scattered all around her, almost as if they were squeezing her into a tight hug. She let out a breath of fresh air, seeing it appear in the chill. As she urged herself to sit up, all she could feel was frostbite on her fingertips as they sank into snow.

Maia gasped and stood up with a jolt, the wind sending a gust of snow in her direction, enough to knock her back down. She looked around at the area she was in, knowing instantly she was not in Washington anymore. But the real question remained: where was she?

Maybe she had gotten lost and the storm had turned into snow. Maia tried to ignore her underlying thoughts that it was spring-time and it was not common for snow to fall. She began running north, screaming out Derek's name in case he was in close vicinity.

Her head moved every way, hoping to see Derek's worried face waiting for her, but she saw nothing but the thick snow in her vision. Her feet dug into the fluffy piles of snow on the ground as she ran. She could barely open her eyes, feeling as if scabs were forming around them for staying out in the cold while wearing not proper attire.

There was no one around. The area was barren. She was alone.

Maia continued to scream at the top of her lungs and prayed someone would hear. She needed someone to hear. She felt her joints lock and blood crust underneath her bare fingernails. She was tired already.

As if there was someone looking down on her, she saw a large pair of doors in the far distance. She hoped it wasn't a mirage as she neared it, seeing the hard wooden doors become covered with the never-ending snowfall.

Once she approached it, she rammed her trembling body into the wood. She could already feel the bruise forming on her side from it, but she continued to thrust herself against the entrance as she screamed for help. There had to be someone inside – whatever the inside was. From the looks of it, the doors enclosed the entrance to a large wall of ice. Someone had to live beyond it, or at least, she hoped.

Shrieks racked her lungs, causing her throat to dry. She needed water. She needed human life if she was going to find out where she was.

"COME ON!" She screeched as she shoved herself against the wood once more. "HELP!"

If it wasn't the chilly air, it was the tiredness within her mentality that finally got her. When she pushed her body for the last time against the gate, she felt herself grow limp before falling to the snow again. She was crying in the winter that surrounded her, and she could slowly feel the water running down her cheeks turning into ice too.


	4. TO MEET A COMMANDER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Night's Watch find a frost-bitten woman outside their gates, and Jon Snow, their Lord Commander, ventures to interrogate the stranger.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER FOUR

#####  **__________________________**

**MAIA'S** hand immediately went to her forehead, which throbbed heavily against her skull. The mannerism was strange, because she wasn't known to black out like this. She groaned as the throbbing seemed to get worse with each passing second. The only good thing was that she noticed she wasn't cold anymore.

The second she opened her eyes, she was greeted with the sight of two gruffly looking men looking down at her. Maia was ready to scream, but not before the shorter man pressed his finger to her lips.

He then proceeded to hit his slighter bigger friend. "See what you did? You scared the lady!" He scoffed. "Go get her more blankets, Sam."

Maia looked around at her surroundings, realizing she was in some type of log cabin. She was wrapped up in over a dozen blankets and furs, making it hard to sit up with the cocoon around her. She was still in the same clothes as before, though they were a bit dirty and torn at seams, almost like her brain at the moment. Her knees were significantly bruised and her fingers tinged with blood.

"Hello, Miss," the short man greeted with his hand stuck out. "I'm Ed Tollett."

She shook it, her features growing confused. "Maia Sanders."

"Sanders," Ed mused to himself. "Never heard of that house myself."

Maia glanced at Ed for a second before observing herself. First, what were these men wearing? She hadn't seen capes like that worn since she saw her college's LARPing group on campus. Secondly, where was she? If anything, she wasn't in Washington anymore. So how did she just black out and move?

Derek must be so worried.

The clang of metal outside distracted her, and Maia found herself bolting out of the squeaky bed the random men had given her. From the window that led outside, she looked out to see two men cloaked in black clashing their swords against each other. They both held shields made out a dented wood, just good enough to practice fighting.

Maia backed away, not believing her eyes. "This isn't real," she breathed out.

Not only was she somewhere far from Washington, but it also looked like she was in an entirely different century.

She looked at back at Ed. His name – where had she heard it before? Ed Tollett.

 _Ed Tollett is probably the best secondary character for the Night's Watch_ , she recounted Derek saying once.

Ed Tollett. Night's Watch. _Character_.

This was an exact setting in _Game of Thrones_.

It was like she'd _fallen through time_.

"Are you okay, m'lady? You look like you're going be sick." Ed treaded his words lightly, careful not to offend. "We don't usually have ladies behind the Wall, so excuse me if I don't know feminine facial expressions. You're lucky they even allowed you in."

Maia shook her head. Maybe she was going to be sick. "This can't be true. How did I get stuck here?"

"What's not true?" Ed asked, drawing near.

Before she could stop herself, Maia grasped Ed's collar firmly. Her eyes became crazed towards the short man as his friend, Sam, returned back with two more blankets. "I brought more!" He exclaimed while his orbs settled on the sight in front of him.

"Where exactly am I?" Maia questioned.

Ed's brow lifted. "Why, you're at the Wall. The North of Westeros to be exact."

The North. Westeros.

Her eyes went wide as she realized the complexity of the situation in front of her. She was fucked, straight-up fucked, and she didn't know how. When she came to the conclusion, all her thoughts ran to Derek, and as everything rammed inside her skull all at once, Maia found herself fainting in Ed's arms.

Luckily, the stock man caught her just in time. "The lady collapsed. Again."

"What do you think the Council is going to do with her?" Sam helped Ed lift her back over to the bed, shielding her body from the cold under more covers. "Do you think she's a spy?"

"Woman barely knows where she is. I'd say no." Ed shook his head. "Tell the Lord Commander he can oversee her."

**__________________________**

"I find it completely preposterous that you're Eddard's bastard son."

Jon was walking beside Stannis Baratheon, the Watch's new backing for King of the North, and though he was near, he was completely disregarding everything he was saying. Jon was focused on his footing and the mission he had in front of him, which he thought he would see through.

When the Night's Watch had heard the strange woman's shrieking against their entrance, they assumed the worst. Being the paranoid bunch they are, they refused to open to her, but once she stopped, they checked outside to see a frozen young woman's body lying in the five-foot snow. Jon remembered carrying her hurriedly to the first empty quarters he could think of, ushering Ed and Sam to help him while he went back to training new recruits. Yes, women were surely not allowed beyond the Wall, but Jon overlooked the laws as soon as he saw her body covered in ice. He was only afraid of the other Watch members' view of the problem, because they surely wouldn't understand his reasoning, regardless of his title.

"Eddard was always an honorable man," Stannis continued, bringing Jon away from his thoughts. "It wasn't in his character to have random sex with some tavern whore. My wife thinks differently, but who has ever listened to her." He let out a chuckle.

Jon falsely smiled in his direction as they approached the former empty chambers Castle Black held. "If you'll excuse me, your Grace, I have a meeting to attend to."

Stannis grabbed hold of Jon's arm before he could enter. "Is it the stranger?"

Jon nodded, confused at where this conversation was heading.

"Have you gathered her name yet?"

"Indeed," Jon replied. "Ed informed me she went by the name, Maia Sanders."

Stannis thought for a moment. "I've never heard of House Sanders." He stated defensively. "Be careful of your trust, Jon Snow. I know you're so accepting to let wildlings through the Wall, but I highly doubt anyone else will agreed on this. Think before you trust."

The Lord Commander took the King's words into consideration, but didn't care too much about them. He was going to do what he thought was right; everyone else's words were just whispers in the wind.

With a proper goodbye, Jon stepped forth into the room, his dark orbs immediately falling on the blonde sitting in the corner of the room. She had been tapping her fingers when he came in, obviously awake as her eyes searched the room. "Hello, Lady Sanders," he introduced, pulling a stool forward. "My name is Jon Snow and I am Lord Commander of Castle Black."

 _Jon Snow_ , Derek had said, _probably the most attractive guy on the show, and that's coming from me. He was formerly Ned Stark's bastard son and then he left for Wall, where he trained for the Night's Watch. During the current season, he actually became Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, a.k.a. the highest position, like, ever._

Maia shook his hand, but remained silent nonetheless. She needed to think. She needed to be alone with her thoughts to process the situation that she was truly in.

She took note of his garb, a long black cape with, of course, fur attached. He also adorned a full black outfit made of some type of leather and a pair of darkened boots. Perfect for the type of weather they were in, she supposed. But what caught her eye the most was his face, and not in the physical attractiveness kind of way, though she did agree with Derek's words. His features looked like they always had the same sullen expression plastered on them and Maia guessed this Jon Snow had been through more turmoil in his life than she could count. His hair, long and black curly strands, covered most of his face while a scruffy beard connected on his jawline. By being with Derek for so long, Maia hadn't seen a man with a beard in years. She stared into his dark eyes then, noticing the dark bags underneath. In all honesty, she thought his tired eyes were kind of nice.

"You've clearly had a tiring day, miss." Jon continued, setting Longclaw beside him. "But you wouldn't imagine the shock everyone had when seeing you lying in the snow in front of the gates. We feared you to be the worst at first."

"Sorry for scaring you," she apologized, "but I'm still trying to figure everything out."

Jon leaned forward. "You must know, women aren't allowed beyond the borders of the Wall, due to the Watch's vow of chastity. Where were you heading? We can give you a horse for your journey."

"Listen, Jon," Maia replied, unwrapping herself from the furs engulfing her, "I don't know where I am. I have nowhere to go."

"So you went here to seek refuge?"

She shrugged. Should she reveal the only information she believed to be true: that she had somehow fallen through time and landed in her fiancé's favorite story? There was no way he would believe her.

"That isn't proper attire to wear in the North either, m'lady." He criticized. "I haven't seen anything like that before."

Maia met Jon's eyes, and for once, he saw the pleading in the deep brown of them. She stayed quiet.

"A lot of the Watch think you're a spy from a house against Stannis Baratheon." He whispered as he refused to look at her again, afraid he'd pity her. "I mean, what else are we supposed to think when a random woman lies outside our doors and needs housing? It made everyone suspicious."

"And what do you think, Lord Commander?"

Jon sighed. "I truly don't know."

"I'm not a spy." Maia answered truthfully. "I'm just lost."

The Lord Commander received everything he needed for now, so he took hold of Longclaw and attached it to his belt. "I understand that," he nodded, "but I must speak with the others first. If you seek refuge, I will try my hardest to help you, but don't double cross me, Lady Sanders."

Maia wanted to get one more word out, anything to help her understand her settings more, but before she could ask, Jon Snow was already out the door.


	5. A LADY OUT OF TIME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men of the Night's Watch decide on Maia's fate, as suspicions around her grow.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER FIVE

#####  **__________________________**

**JON** sat in the usual high position at his table in Castle Black's common room, watching the rest of the members eat and talk amongst themselves. He looked to his right, spotting Maester Aemon in his familiar spot and gesturing for him to further a discussion with his fellow men.

"Brothers," Jon called out, immediately silencing the men around him, "we have an important matter to discuss."

"It isn't another latrine pit, is it?" A random man in the back joked.

Ed stood from his spot. "Be quiet for once, would you!"

Jon nodded in his friend's direction. "As you all know, we were greeted by a stranger lying outside of our gates this morning."

A mix of several groans echoed throughout the premises at Jon's words.

When they finally died down, the Lord Commander continued, "She is indeed a woman and we have collected her name to be Maia Sanders. I am very much aware of the Watch's certain vow, but Lady Sanders has come running to us seeking refuge. I fear she has some kind of mind-erasion disorder, for she doesn't know where she is."

"Sounds like a spy to me," Alliser Thorne piped up. "Probably recruited by someone who wants Stannis Baratheon dead."

"I have to disagree, Ser Alliser. She barely has any recollection how she got outside our entrance and the land she's on. I think it's my duty to help her."

Alliser rolled his eyes when Jon wasn't looking. "That's good enough for you, Lord Commander. But something about her sudden presence doesn't seem right to me." He shook his head as his fellow Watch members agreed. "She's not one of us, and she certainly doesn't look like she's from this time. You know the rule of the Night's Watch."

"Time?" Ed scoffed, turning around to meet Thorne's eyes. "What're you suggesting?"

Alliser shrugged. "I don't know. You tell me."

"Enough, brothers," Jon exclaimed, causing them to quiet at the slap of his fist on the table. "Miss Sanders cannot join the Night's Watch, no, but we can surely find a place for her here. She seeks refuge behind the Wall for who knows what reason, so we will give her a job to work for."

The Lord Commander looked around at the men before him. "You will all treat her with respect. This is an order."

**__________________________**

Maia continuously stared at her hands, burrowing herself into the sheets she was given. She was utterly silent, but kept her eyes on anything except the burly male manning her room. It was nerve-racking being watched all the time. They – the Night's Watch, she remembered – all thought she was some kind of menace.

Sam stood in front of her door, glancing at Maia's shivering figure from time to time. He wanted to say something to her to make her feel more comfortable, but to be fair, she didn't seem to be comfortable around anybody. She barely knew anything.

"S – So," he stuttered out, "you're not a spy, right?"

Maia shook her head. "If I was a spy, wouldn't I have done something already?"

"You could be planning to kill Stannis Baratheon."

She looked back down, muttering, "I don't know who that is."

 _Stannis Baratheon believes he's King by birthright_ , Derek mentioned in the past. _He's the older brother of Renly Baratheon, whom he killed, and younger of Robert Baratheon. As soon as Robert died, Stannis was dead-set on claiming the throne. Melisandre, the Red Woman, believed he was the legendary Prince Who Was Promised, also known as the Azor Ahai._

Maia cleared her throat at the memory of her fiancé. "Listen," she continued, "I don't know who most of you are –"

"My name is Samwell –"

"– But I'm just trying to get back to Washington."

Sam furrowed his brow. "Where exactly is that?"

"Never mind," she sighed as her head fell into her hands.

Sam was silent for a moment. "I think you have a good chance of staying here." He explained, not hearing Maia curse at his statement. "Jon seems to be on your side and wants to help. You may be working with my – um – partner, Gilly."

Maia slowly met his eyes. "Partner?"

He immediately back-tracked his words, shaking his head. "Forget what I said. D – Don't say anything."

Maia stood from the mattress, walking over to the bright window as she hugged a blanket tightly around herself. "Wait," she paused, "why is this Gilly allowed to stay here without a cause, but I'm considered a spy?"

She remembered her fiancé's words: _Gilly is Sam Tarly's practical girlfriend. She's a Wildling, meaning she's lived on the lands beyond the Wall, and she has a baby named after Sam, though he is not the father._

Sam shifted his feet. "Well, Jon worked really hard to force others to agree for her to stay. I rescued her and her baby from the terrible father. It was the right thing to do, or her baby would've died."

Maia remembered her term again. "Isn't she a Wildling?"

He lofted a brow. "How would you known that?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words formed. She hastily came up with an excuse: "Lucky guess."

"Fair enough," he nodded. "But yes, because of her identity, others did consider her a spy as well. The Night's Watch also has a specific chastity vow, and many believe that allowing women into Castle Black will tempt men to break that."

Maia scoffed, watching the men below practice their fighting stances. These people would recoil in the mention of modern-day feminism. "The presence of a woman should not be the blame if a man wants to whip out his cock. He does it because he wants to. Just like the presence of a man should not be blamed if a woman wants to show off her breasts."

Sam quivered at her words, immediately looking away. He didn't know exactly what to say, but realized he didn't have to when a knock sounded outside the door. Sam opened it slowly, allowing Jon to emerge into the room.

The Lord Commander cleared his throat, "Lady Sanders."

Maia stared out the window, breathing slowly out of her nose. She closed her eyes as she listened to Jon's "good news." He had found a position for her at Castle Black, though he knew that was clearly not what she wanted. She needed to find a way to get back to Derek.

But now, she had to prepare for her future at Castle Black. Or, better yet, her past.


	6. PREPARATIONS AND ESCAPES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia tries to look for an escape, but finds friendship in a particular Wildling.

 

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER SIX

#####  **__________________________**

**THEY** had provided her with a new set of clothes and procedure. They had given her a new life.

Maia smoothed out the lines in the worn-out dress Gilly had sewn together for her. A navy cape hung on her shoulders, protecting herself from the frigid cold. The bodice she wore felt too tight, but she knew that it would only be a matter of time before she got out of this world.

As she was in mid-motion of twisting her hair into a thick, complex braid, Maia had the epiphany of a life time. The only way she'd be able to return to Derek and her own time was if she found an exact replica of the tree she approached in Washington. She hoped her assumptions were correct, but now she actually had to find the tree.

She missed multiple inventions from the present. She missed TVs and cellphones, and especially, the internet. There was barely anything for entertainment in this world, exceptionally at Castle Black.

Jon gave her a list of actions to do each day, either to help out or so she wouldn't get bored. Maia usually helped out in the kitchens with Hobb and picked up in the eatery every night. If she had time, she would sometimes help Gilly mend clothes for the Watch, and she found the former Widling to be quite nice.

Maia got used to the stares that the men gave her, whether they be hatred or hunger. Her ass was slapped in the canteen more times than she could count, and she realized it was only when the Lord Commander was in proper conversation. She had never met men so vile since an old fraternity party she attended in college, but she could concur that the Night's Watch brothers were even worse.

Though some despised her presence, many of the men were grateful for the specialty taste their food now had. Castle Black was definitely not known for their chefs, but since Maia's arrival, she had decided to add her own spin to the food. The variety of herbs and vegetables she managed to add really helped the flavor of most meals. Hobb, the Watch's head chef, was impressed. They both served the food three times a day.

Maia had ended up having a brief meeting with the one and only Stannis Baratheon, who everyone thought she was a spy to kill. Like herself, the King agreed that the statement was most definitely a lie: "A scrawny woman like you could never kill me." She didn't know if that was a compliment or not.

She had some setbacks, but Maia didn't think her life behind the Wall was all that bad. She just wished she wouldn't have to stay here forever. If she thought hard enough, she could predict the future of the people around her by remembering all of Derek's history, and she didn't know if that information could make or break her.

Maia pulled a large scoop of the stew her and Hobb had brewed for that evening's feast. Leaning her hand over, she let the ladle fall into the random Watch member's bowl in front of her, causing a loud splash. "Sorry," she muttered. The man walked away with a shake of his head.

An elder man with stark white hair approached, who she came to know as Maester Aemon, a close advisor and loyal brother of the Watch as well. "You have been doing an excellent job in the kitchens," he mused as Maia scooped a serving for him. "Not enough of these men tell you that, but you are greatly appreciated."

She came to adore the old maester, as he was an accepting member and always greeted her every morning. Whenever she saw him in the courtyard, he would ask about her day. Aemon happened to be Maia's favorite person in the castle.

"Thank you, Maester Aemon," she smiled, handing him his bowl. "And your words are always greatly appreciated."

Maia continued her duties with Hobb, scooping and serving to every member. She had begun to ring her hands as she expected her time to be over. Hobb already left his station.

A voice cleared in front of her, "Lady Sanders."

Her eyes met Jon Snow's. "Good evening, Lord Commander," she sighed. "You can call me Maia, by the way."

He looked particularly tired today, she noticed. Maia didn't understand the trials and tribulations a Lord Commander had to go through – she barely comprehended where she was in general – but she was sure it wasn't anything fun.

"Then you can call me Jon," he smiled as she filled his bowl with the stew of the night. "Thank you."

Maia didn't want to formulate a proper response, so she settled with a smile before Jon went on his way. She washed her hands off with a spare rag, watching the Lord Commander stride across the aisles of the common room to his position at the head table. After she realized she was staring, Maia left the kitchens.

**__________________________**

To help herself better understand the world she was suddenly transported to, Maia took the free time she sometimes received to research history in Castle Black's small library selection. She knew she had the knowledge provided by Derek, but she couldn't knock it all out at once.

There, in the library, Maia studied a variety of different topics. She was especially interested in the history of the Iron Throne, because all she knew beforehand was that too many families were vying to claim it, no matter what the cost. She never remembered Derek explaining the vows of Castle Black or even White Walkers, which truly terrified her. Knowing that these ice giants could come to the Wall and attack at any minute petrified the blonde. She realized that when she had arrived many moons ago, the Watch probably suspected her to be a White Walker army. She read a heavily-used term was that "winter was coming," and so it was.

On a fairly chilly night, Maia sat with Gilly in the comfort of the girl's room under the dense light. Gilly really enjoyed mending and making clothes, and Maia had minor sewing education from high school back home, so she decided to partake. She liked being around Gilly, and Maia decided that if she got to know her well enough, she would possibly reveal her origins of arriving and ask how to return to her timeline. But at the moment, she found that to be very unlikely.

"Where did you learn to sew like that?" Gilly asked, tilting her head to the side.

Maia halted her movements. "Schooling," she shrugged. "What about you?"

"My mother," she smiled at the memory. "Though I barely have any recollection of her besides that. My father tried to bury her away deep."

Maia remember Derek talking about Gilly being the daughter and wife of Craster: _He usually married all his daughters and lived at Craster's Keep. At one time, he had over nineteen wives. He was a major creep_.

In the corner of the room, her child, Sam, began to cry in the swaddle she had him in. Gilly approached him, picking the baby up and rocking him back and forth. Maia watched as the mother looked into Sam's eyes lovingly.

"Sometimes I look in this baby's eyes and see my father's. It's sad, but almost comforting." She whispered, and Maia knew this was her subtle way of explaining Craster's incestuous relationship. "In my eyes, Samwell Tarly will always be the father of this baby, no matter what. I owe him my life, that one."

Maia nodded. She could agree, Sam was a good man. At first, she was very maddened by him, but soon grew to his nervous presence.

"Enough about I," Gilly smiled, sitting back down with the blonde as she cradled her child. "The Watch seemed to have provided you a good life here. This isn't the best place to seek refuge, but the Lord Commander was adamant in helping."

 _If only she knew I needed help to get away_ , thought Maia.

"Have you noticed Ser Alliser's hatred yet?"

Maia nodded, her fingers twisting into the knots of the fabric she was holding. She admitted the man in question was a bother, and she couldn't help but realized his odious stares were mainly directed at her.

Gilly kissed the top of little Sam's head. "He believes women of any sort shouldn't be allowed in Castle Black, in fear they'll tempt his brothers. But I – in his eyes – am far worse, because I was once one of the Free Folk."

"In my opinion," the blonde spoke up, "I think he's just afraid that the women who arrive here will reject him."

The two girls laughed along with the joke, and Maia could finally see the light at the end of the dark tunnel she was in. She missed Derek dearly, but in that moment, she decided that if she were to be stuck in this world forever, it wouldn't be too terrible.


	7. BETWEEN A PRISONER AND A SPY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia continues to try to find ways to return to her world, all the while receiving a wake-up-call from a Wildling prisoner.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER SEVEN

#####  **__________________________**

**AFTER** handing out the afternoon portions, Maia made her way outside and into the courtyard. She was beginning to get used to the never-ending cold, and sometimes she needed the natural air to calm herself when she was in the kitchens too long. She had brought out the dress she'd been working on for a week, sitting down on a mound of hay under the cover of the castle's awning.

She had been trying to find a replica of the tree from her vacation for too long. There was nothing around Castle Black that came close to it, leaving her to believe that she had to venture outside the Wall. She figured that maybe – just maybe – if she became close with one of the men around her, they would help her. But on the other hand, many of them did loathe her.

Maia pricked her finger on the needle as she was sewing, watching the small amount of blood seep out of the wound. She brought the digit up to mouth and waited for it to heal. She began to watch the brothers practice with each other, the group becoming larger as the minutes commenced. Her eyes found Jon Snow, who was helping out a little boy that she came to know as Olly. The act of helping him was sweet to her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Sanders," a gruff voice said from above.

Maia looked up to see Alliser Thorne's terminally aged face, a frown plastered on it. She smiled softly in his direction.

"You might want to hold back a little on the salt next time you cook a roast for the Watch. It could upset some stomachs."

She immediately frowned, realizing a compliment would never fall from his mouth. "Well, Ser Alliser, I'll remember to care about your needs over others when I cook with Hobb this evening. I'm sure your brothers will love that your thinking of yourself over them."

Alliser released a scoff before walking away.

**__________________________**

"You're very beautiful."

Maia glanced up to see Shireen Baratheon smiling at her. She joined the child and Gilly in the castle's library to help teach the Widling how to read. She had met Shireen only a couple times before, but thought the girl to be better than her father. She never dared to ask about her face condition, because she remembered Derek speaking about her once or twice and explaining her "greyscale."

She grinned at the compliment. "Thank you, that's probably the best compliment I've received since I got here."

Maia continued her stare back to the book in front of her. She had found a particular book on nature, which she planned on researching the types of trees around the North in it. So far, she was ending up with nothing, and she barely had the patience to look through it.

Shireen was trying her best to help Gilly spell out a certain word when the elder girl spat out, "Why does this book seem like it's made for children?"

"Because it is," Shireen laughed. "I thought we'd start easy."

Maia looked up from the page she was currently trying to decipher. "Sorry to interrupt this fascinating conversation, but I have a question." Both girls made eye contact with the blonde. "Are there any white-barked trees with red leaves close to the Wall?"

Shireen looked at Gilly for a moment. "Are you speaking of a weirwood tree?"

Maia skipped to the _W_ section of the book she held, her finger scanning the words until she found the one in question. A small illustration was sketched next to the term, and Maia instantly recognized it. She then nodded at Shireen's question.

"I think I remember Sam telling me once that the Watch take their vows before a weirwood tree." Gilly thought out loud. "There has to be one near, but it must be away from the Wall."

The blonde looked back down at the description of a weirwood, realizing she'd have to search far and wide to find one. She couldn't possibly do it alone.

Gilly was about to continue her reading, but halted herself to question, "Why do you ask, Maia?"

"I've only seen one once," she replied quickly as her eyes skimmed a page. "I'd like to see another."

"I would approach Jon about it." Gilly suggested. "Or Sam. They know a lot about things like that."

Maia shook her head. Jon had other things to worry about than her sudden interest in nature, and it wasn't like she could tell her true reason for research anyways.

Gilly squinted at the sentence in front of her as Shireen's finger helped guide. "And then ... he ... th – _thoat_?"

"Sound it out more," Shireen advised. "The _U_ , _G_ , _H_ are silent."

"Th – tho – thought?"

Shireen nodded, excited that her staying within the remnants of this castle was doing some good.

The paired continued as Gilly found herself growing smarter each minute. "He ... h – hate – ed ... teem."

"Time," Maia interrupted. "It says, 'He hated _time_.'"

**__________________________**

On extremely unlucky days, Ed asked of Maia's help to take food portions to the prisoners of the Watch. He was usually the one to do it, but requested her assistance, explaining that he was "just too busy."

Maia covered the bowl of steaming hot soup with her hand, practically burning her fingertips. What she would give to have plastic containers again.

She tried her best to follow Ed's instructions, but it was hard to navigate through Castle Black, and Maia was sure she took the wrong turn five times. When she managed to find the exact look of the rooms Ed had described, she approached each door, looking through the barred windows. She knew she was looking for a specific man, one with fiery red hair and a beard to match.

Maia took note that a Wildling was present here. Gilly had mentioned how much the Watch hated Wildlings, though one was present within their walls. It didn't quite add up, but she was positive she'd heard a rumor that the Lord Commander was pretty affectionate towards their cause.

Maia spotted Tormund Giantsbane through the metal bars attached to his wooden door. She met his eyes when her foot creaked against the floorboards.

"I heard you were a spy, and yet they didn't lock you up." The Wildling leader mused, his chains clanking on the floor as he slid over. "How am I any more of a prisoner than you are?"

She cleared her throat. "I'm just here to hand over your meal."

Opening the small window on his door, Maia slid the tray of soup into Tormund's room. "Enjoy," she muttered bitterly.

 _Tormund grows to become a friend to Jon Snow_ , she remembered Derek describing. _He knows he needs the help of the Wildlings to defeat the wars to come, and to do this, he must win over men like Tormund. He also fucked a bear, apparently_.

Maia stood back up, and before she could register it, the bearded man's face was pressed against the bars. "Do you think it's because they all want to fuck you? I'm only chained because I don't look like a spy like you?" He spat to the side.

"These men at Castle Black have sworn a vow." Maia seethed, pressing her nose against the bars so Tormund could see the creases of anger on her face. "And I have more self-respect than letting them fuck me anyways."

The Wildling nodded. "Aye, so I'm more of a prisoner because I have a cock between my legs. I see how it is now."

She couldn't form a response. His answers were daunting, because _why_ exactly was she treated any different than him? She realized the Watch's hatred for Wildlings, but she was thought to be a spy at first, so why wasn't she locked up as well?

Maia left her mouth hanging open, and when she realized she couldn't defend herself anymore, she walked away from Tormund Giantsbane. She could just hear him cursing under his breath.


	8. A BEAUTY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: SEXUAL HARASSMENT
> 
> Derek tries to make sense of his fiancé's disappearance, while Maia is confronted by a pair of Night's Watch brothers.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER EIGHT

#####  **__________________________**

**DEREK** hadn't expected to stay in Washington for more than three days, let alone three weeks.

He never talked to so many cops in his life; it was too _overwhelming_. Sometimes he went days without talking to them, and each time they requested to chat again, they just disappointed him. They weren't trying hard enough for Derek.

No body understands a situation until it happens to them. Derek realized this in the hardest way. He missed his fiancé more than anyone knew. His heart pained him every time he looked through his phone and saw pictures of them together. His head was going to implode, and sometimes he'd go through fits of severe depression over this or severe anger. He didn't think something like this could happened to him, or even _her_.

She was too good of a person. Things like this didn't happen to people like her.

"We're sorry, sir," Officer Wayland, the same man he had been talking to for weeks, replied. "We still haven't found her. It's like she disappeared out of thin air."

Derek ran a hand over his face, eyes darting to the bed-and-breakfast that he had been staying too long in. He was lucky enough that the owner felt bad for him and let him continue his stay. "Well, obviously that is not possible."

"I think it's in your best interest to go back home. We will contact you about anything we find, but staying here is not helping you."

He kicked the ground. "Just –" he blew out a sigh "– call me if you find anything, and I mean _anything_."

Officer Wayland gathered with his fellow officers to discuss the investigation as Derek walked away, but he was close enough to hear them all whisper, "Poor guy. Bet the woman ran off with another man."

Derek explained his issue with Mrs. Travis, which she responded with a shake of her head. "I think I'll be heading out tomorrow," he said. "Thank you for housing me during this issue."

"It was not a problem, dear," the elder replied. "I remember seeing a story like this on the news months ago. Married couple comes here for their honeymoon, and then the wife just vanishes. Police found her after a week and it turned out she ran off with a secret lover. Oh, was her husband devastated."

Derek swallowed the lump in his throat.

Mrs. Travis looked up. "I'm not saying that has happened to you, but ..." She stopped herself. "You'll feel better if you go home, dear."

**__________________________**

Derek felt his suitcase weigh heavier than normal as he walked through the clean halls of the Washington airport. He slid his ticket into his back pocket, taking a seat in the row of chairs near his gate. In a matter of five hours, he would be home, but _she_ wouldn't.

A TV broadcasting the news sat to his right and Derek continued to ignore it, until a photo caught his eye.

"The case regarding a Vermont woman's disappearance is still being investigated by police." The newscaster reported as a picture of Maia appeared to the left of the screen. "Police have released that her name is Maia Sanders. Miss Sanders traveled to Washington with her fiancé for a vacation before their wedding, but vanished the morning after they arrived. If you have any information about this disappearance, you are requested to call police."

Derek looked back at his plane ticket. Five more hours.

**__________________________**

Maia found comfort in the stars at the Wall. She had been sitting in the courtyard at night, but after Gilly became tired, she was left alone. Though she didn't mind, because this time give her a moment to think.

She had come up with a dead end on finding a weirwood tree. She practically looked like an insane person as she spied on every living tree in her vicinity, which was very little. When she asked Ed about this, he told her many trees inside the Wall and outside were cut down so the Free Folk couldn't use them to make weapons.

She heard a foot crunch under the snow on the ground, but tried her best to ignore the sound as she continued sewing the dress she'd had for weeks. Then she heard another, and another. The footsteps were getting harder to overlook and Maia slowly looked up, seeing two Night's Watch brothers walking a path over to her.

"A beauty, isn't she, mate?"

Even in the darkness, Maia could see that one was short while the other remained tall. Already, she could feel the situation growing worse, so she stood from her spot and began to saunter away.

The short man chuckled. "Where you going, love? Aren't we better looking than the other men on these grounds? Or are you more for Eddison?"

"Excuse me," she muttered, trying to move past the two.

The larger one wouldn't budge as he looked at his friend. "The question is if she is truly pretty, or is she just pretty because she's one of the few girls here?"

"Move."

Shorty held a hand to his chest. "Why don't you give us a kiss first?"

Maia glared at the men. "Leave me alone."

"Come on, love," Shorty persisted.

The taller man laughed. "A man gets lonely guarding the Wall."

"No," she seethed, shoving her way through them. To her surprise, she was thrown backwards.

"There's no need to be rude." Shorty frowned. "Would you like me better if I were more handsome? If I had the face of the Lord Commander?"

Maia lifted her hand, slapping the man right across the face. She felt the other gaining up behind her, trying to lift up the back of her dress. She shot out her left hand, pushing him back. "Stop that," she spat. "Last I heard, you brothers had vows."

"That doesn't mean we always have to follow them," the tall one advised, propelling Maia to the side.

The group of three heard a sword unsheathe before them. They whipped their heads in the sound's direction.

"Let her go or I'll have your heads." Jon Snow snarled. The two men refused to move. "I said to let her go, Ser Robin and Paolo."

Robin raised his hands in surrender. "Didn't mean anything by it, Lord Commander. Just wanted something she couldn't give."

"I beg to differ," the raven-haired man replied. "You two should be on your way."

Paolo was shaking his head as they walked away. Maia watched the men look back at her in disgust before locking eyes with Jon. She swallowed the bile creeping up her throat.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Jon pushed Longclaw back in it's sheath. "My pleasure."

He gestured for her to move past him, which she took gratification in. She began to walk in the way of her room, but before she heard Jon call, "Maia."

She looked backwards where he still stood, playing with his hands. "If you need anything – ever – please, just ask."

Maia nodded. "Thank you, Jon Snow. For everything."


	9. ALONE TIME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Maia converse over a bottle of wine, and she concludes that he has a more troubling past than he lets on.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER NINE

#####  **__________________________**

**MAIA** screeched loudly.

Gilly's eyes widened as she leaned her back against the stall of the latrine. Jon had a private area built for both girls as they did their business, but Gilly was surprised at her friend's shriek from inside. She knocked on the rotting wood of the door. "Maia," she called, "are you alright?"

The blonde shook her head, angry that out of all things she forgot a woman could have, it was her period. "I'm – I'm bleeding, Gilly."

The other girl furrowed her brow. "You have your moon blood?"

"Sure," Maia shrugged, looking down at her underclothes. She was easily making a fool of herself as she sat in the privy for longer than usual and shivered from the lack of warmth.

"Well, what have you usually done to cover it?" Gilly asked.

"You'd be surprised."

Reaching down for her skirt, Gilly ripped a piece of cloth from her fabric and handed it to Maia from above. "Put this in your breeches. It should help for a couple hours."

The blonde did as such, her stomach roaring with pains. "What do you do about your moon blood?"

"I free-bleed."

Maia felt like throwing up.

**__________________________**

The best time of the day was at night. It was under the cover of the stars and darkness that Maia could be alone without a thousand men surrounding her. She could practically smell testosterone from a mile away now.

Hobb wanted to used all their leftover corn before it went bad, so they had combined their recipes to make corn chowder for the Watch. Maia was never a fan, but found herself enjoying the meal as she sat in the silence of the empty common room that night.

It had been a week since the scare she had with Ser Robin and Paolo. She wanted to act like the situation didn't bother her, but it truly did. In the back of her mind, Maia wanted to believe that she could've handled them herself. She didn't want to think about what could've happened if Jon hadn't been there. She had never been more grateful for everything he'd done for her.

But then again, that night was the last time he'd spoken to her. The Lord Commander had even refused to make eye contact with her since then. She wasn't offended by it – were they even _friends_? – but it did make her wonder what struck him. It caused her to assume that Jon Snow didn't usually get close to people, and when they tried, he only pushed them back. She didn't blame him, because she would get that way as well.

Maia stared at the flame on top of the candle to her side. She sighed before pouring some aged wine into a scratched up glass. She didn't want to think about the work she had to do to get the stains out of it.

She heard the doors of the canteen open and close behind her, but Maia continued eating in her spot. The feet creaked against the floor before they settled in front of her. "Is this seat taken?" A familiar voice asked.

Maia gestured for Jon Snow to sit down. "I guess now."

He pulled the stool out, allowing it to scratch on the boards and causing Maia to wince. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

She shrugged. "Alone time."

"Am I bothering you?"

"Not really," she shook her head. "I just didn't expect you to talk to me."

He lofted a brow, picking up the bottle of wine to study it. "Why is that?"

"Do you feel bad for me?" Maia dropped her spoon into the almost-empty bowl. "Because I could've handled that situation by myself last week, and the second that you come in to help, you stopped talking to me. Excuse me for thinking that this gesture was strange."

Jon was dumbfounded. "I don't feel bad for you, Maia." He looked at anything but her eyes. "I was ... scared to get to know you, I guess."

"And you thought that could happen over a bottle of this horrendous wine?" She sneered, finishing off her dinner and picking up her glass.

He grinned. "You can't hurt a man for trying."

They clanked they scratched glasses together with a smile. "So," Maia smirked and took a sip of her cup, "still think I'm a spy, _Lord Commander_?"

"I doubt it." He admitted. "But you're going to have to try a lot harder to convince the others. The won't be swayed so easily by the opposite gender."

"Do you think spilling a little blood will convince them?"

Jon laughed, stopping for a moment as his mind reverted to former memories. "A special friend once told me that girls see more blood than boys; that they won't collapse at the sight of blood."

Maia nodded. "Your friend is right." She paused for a moment, realizing Jon was looking at his shoes. "What was their name?"

He hesitated. The raven-haired man wasn't used to being so open like this, but he could admit he felt a warm light radiating off of Maia, which made him feel comfortable. Her smirk reminded him of his past.

"Ygritte," he muttered. "Her name was Ygritte."

She remembered seeing the face of a red-headed woman pop up on her television screen, and when asked, Derek described: _That's Ygritte, long-time girlfriend of Jon Snow – well, before she died. She's a Wildling and her and Jon had cave sex, which is a major no-no for the Watch._

Maia smiled. "I like the name. Sounds like a girl who'd blacken your eye if you crossed her."

"You don't know the half of it."

She lifted her glass to her lips as she smirked. "I think I'd like her. We'd be good friends. I need more females near me."

"Trust me, the only way you'd get her near the Wall was if she was attacking it." He shook his head at the memories, connecting his dark eyes with hers. "But I think she'd like you too."

Before she could stop herself, Maia blurted, "How'd she die?" The blonde began shaking her head. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to –"

"She was shot with in arrow through her chest."

"Oh," Maia glanced away, releasing a drunken burp with a giggle. "If it makes you feel better, I have no idea how I got here or where my fiancé is."

She hadn't realized she was going to reveal information about herself so fast, but guessed it was the alcohol running through her system. Luckily, she hadn't croaked out that she was from a completely different time and she was suddenly dropped into Derek's favorite TV show.

Jon's eyes seemed to bug out of his skull. "What's a _fiancé_?"

"For another day, my friend." She replied, standing from her stool and walking to the metal container that held all their dirty dishes.

He followed her lead, but not before stumbling over his own two feet. He was a light-weight, just like her. "At least, let me walk you to your room."

Maia looked back at him from her spot, leaning against the entrance's doors. "A couple things you should learn about me, Jon Snow: I am perfectly fine walking back to my room alone, and I will not allow you to make me a damsel in distress again."


	10. JUST LIFE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia witnesses a private encounter between the Red Woman and Jon Snow. King Stannis questions her whereabouts.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER TEN

#####  **__________________________**

**MELISANDRE** cascaded down the halls of Castle Black as if she were flying, but with powers like hers, it was to be expected.

She seemed to have floated into Jon Snow's room just as Sam was removing himself. Jon nodded for her to come in. "Lord Commander," she greeted.

"How can I help you?" He sighed, searching through his stacks on stacks of papers.

"Come with us when we ride South." She ordered while prancing throughout his abode. "None of us know the castle as well as you do: it's hidden tunnels; it's weaknesses; it's people. Winterfell was your home once." She turned to face him. "Don't you want to chase the rats out of it?"

Jon raised a brow. "Castle Black is my home now."

Maia took note on Jon's working late that evening. She hadn't given him his portions during dinner, so she supposed he had skipped with Sam. She didn't like not being able to feed or help those who have done the same for her.

She had already found Sam while he was on his way somewhere else and handed him his daily dinner. He thanked her tremendously and gave her a set of directions to find Jon so she could deliver his own.

Maia followed his instructions without missing a beat this time. She realized she was getting good at knowing the different passageways of Castle Black as she approached Jon's door, which was already slightly cracked. The bowl of steaming food in her hands stung.

She was ready to push open the door when she heard the Lord Commander arguing with someone. "You're going to show me some vision in the fire?" He spat. "Forgive me, my Lady. I don't trust in visions."

As the woman came into view, Maia immediately recognized the cherry red hair of Melisandre. From what she gathered from both Derek and her own experiences, the Red Woman was full of myths and conceptions. She believed in what she believed, and nothing but that. Maia remembered Derek saying she birthed a demonic spirit. Talk about weird.

"No visions. No magic. Just life."

And then her robes slid off her body.

Maia's mouth fell open. She couldn't see Melisandre's bare breasts from her crack in the door, but she knew Jon surely could from the look of surprise on his face. Watching the way he looked at her made her feel uncomfortable. But she couldn't exactly blame him – going years without women could turn the best of men into monsters.

She watched Melisandre lift his right hand to cup her breast. He kept looking at it, and for some reason, Maia found the bowl in her hands growing colder. She shouldn't be looking at this and – oh, there it was. There was the jealousy, hiding deep within the pit of her stomach.

"Do you feel my heart beating?" Melisandre whispered, only to have Jon nod sheepishly in response. "This power in you – you resist it, and that's your mistake. Embrace it."

Maia was trying not to gag.

The Red Woman caressed his face before moving to sit on his lap, her bareness thumping against the leather that covered him. "The Lord of Light made us male and female: two parts of a greater whole. In our joining, this power – the power to make life; the power to make light; the power to cast shadows ..."

She leaned in slowly, her delicate fingers playing with the strings on his collar. He sighed, "I can't."

"Uh – _yeah_ , you can't." Maia whispered to herself.

"I swore a vow," Jon continued, gulping at his own words. "I've loved another."

Melisandre frowned. "The dead don't need lovers. Only the living."

Jon saw at her quick moves, removing the witch's hands before they could touch him again. "I know. I still love her."

The bowl in her hands was sliding as the anticipation in the room grew thicker. Maia found her sanity slipping away as her foot cracked the door open more, and she found herself blurting, "Lord Commander!"

The couple's heads whipped in her direction. Maia's breath caught in her throat.

Melisandre removed herself from Jon's lap so that he could slowly stride over to his door, redoing his garb in the process. The blonde sluggishly raised her eyes to Jon's as he opened the door. "Maia," he muttered under his breath. "Is there something I can help you with?"

She thrust her hands forward, practically shoving the cold bowl into his chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered before sprinting away as fast as she could.

**__________________________**

Maia held up her creation, studying the dress with pride. She had finally finished her only source of entertainment for the past month. Had it really been a month? The time passed by so quickly in this world.

She was admiring the embroidery details that were hand-stitched when she heard someone knock on her door. She shook for a second, still reveling in the embarrassment she'd encountered a couple nights prior, but it seemed the past was always coming back to haunt her.

Jon Snow stood at the foot of her entryway, eyes casted down at her. "I've been requested to take you to King Stannis."

She laid the new dress on her bed before smoothing out the lines in her cloak. Following him out the door and into the courtyard, Maia found it hard to keep up with his pace. She was sure it was because he wished to not speak to her, but the slight tinge of pink to his cheeks suggested different.

"Jon," she called, gaining lead on him. "Jon."

" _What_?"

She leaned away from his cruel demeanor, shocked at his halt of movement. She found some of his brothers watching. "I just wanted to talk to you for a moment."

"We have nothing to speak about." He countered, continuing his walk again.

Maia played with her fingers. "I wanted to apologize for ... walking in on you. I didn't mean to –"

The pair stopped a few feet away from a door that held a guard outside of it. Jon met her eyes again. "Just," he paused, "don't talk about it. You don't need to apologize."

She nodded, moving her gaze to the entrance she needed to pass through to see Stannis. "What do you think he wants?"

"Couldn't tell you," Jon muttered, looking back down at her. "I'll meet you later."

She didn't understand why he wanted to meet her, but watched him walk away with a raised brow. Regardless, Maia sauntered towards Stannis' door, reciting her name to the guard before he allowed her entrance.

The moment she walked in, her eyes connected with the Red Woman's, who stood casually next to Stannis' desk. Maia swallowed down the lump in her throat. "I was told you requested my presence," she greeted.

"I did," he agreed, nodding in Melisandre's direction for her to leave. The witch gave him a glance before removing herself, continuing her stare on the other woman.

Maia cleared her throat once she was gone, looking back at Stannis. He was silent as he glowered her way. "Well," she shifted her feet, "what would you like to know?"

Stannis gestured for her to sit, and she did as such. "I would like to know how you got here, Lady Sanders."

Maia's mouth fell agape. "Excuse me?"

"I may believe that your being a spy is false," he countered, "but that doesn't halt my suspicions of why you're truly here."

"I was seeking refuge."

He nodded. "As you've said many times before. But it's very odd for a woman to be running around the North with no cloak." He laughed then, looking outside the window to his right. "It's almost as if you were dropped in from the sky."

Maia gulped.

"Look," he continued, "I'm not trying to interrogate you. It was just a question."

"I really don't remember how I happened upon here, Your Grace." She admitted, but confident that she had remembered a correct term. "I wish I could tell you, but I am not – nor have I ever been – a spy. If I was planning to kill you, don't you think I would've tried by now?"

Stannis realized she made a good point. "Indeed," he moved his gaze back to her, "but if you dare to cross me, Lady Sanders, be aware that I will have your head."

"Understood."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos so far! I appreciate any comments if anyone would be inclined to!
> 
> -Victoria


	11. REMEMBRANCE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia finds a reason to stay.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER ELEVEN

#####  **__________________________**

**AFTER** every evening, Maia found the muscles in her arms growing stronger, thanks to all the scooping she had to do throughout the day. There were no treadmills or weights during this time; her work out came from giving men their meals three times a day.

Maia watched the wax drip onto the floor from the candle next to her. She wiped the sweat residue from her forehead as she watched Hobb retire for the night. All the men were having their daily dinner and Maia watched them eat in disgust. She was about to leave to possibly sleep early when she watched Jon Snow glide in from the entrance.

She tried her best to act like she wasn't staring – when it was truly obvious – as Jon approached her station. "Good evening, Maia." He greeted while holding out a plate for her to take.

Maia scooped the casserole-like dish Hobb had made without her onto Jon's tray, watching his face slowly grow appalled. "I can see you had no part in making tonight's dinner." He muttered.

"You'd be correct."

Jon took back his plate, meeting her eyes. "Do you have plans on this night?"

She shrugged. "Nothing besides sleep."

"Would you accompany me on a walk later?"

Maia smirked. "I think I can fit you into my schedule."

**__________________________**

One important thing Maia learned about Jon Snow from her own experiences was that he was an incredibly fast walker. She didn't understand how anyone could keep up with his pace.

It was difficult to follow him in the darkness, but keeping a hand on his snow-covered shoulder was her only solution. He was leading her outside their borders, she noticed, and was grateful to be able to see the Wall again from another perspective. Jon looked behind them as he closed the gates, reassuring her, "We won't be venturing that far."

"Where are we headed then?"

Jon chuckled. "Someone told me you were interested in seeing a weirwood tree."

Maia's eyes widened. There was no way he was going to take her to see one. Finally, she'd know a way to escape the depths of this world she was thrust into for no particular reason.

But did she truthfully want to leave? In the beginning, of course, though it was different now. Maia hadn't expected to form friendships or even bonds with these people. She hadn't wanted to, but look where she was now. Speaking of her fiancé, did she actually want to return to him?

Maia glanced at Jon, who released a smile in return.

No, maybe she did not want to leave.

The pair approached the ever-growing weirwood tree carefully, trying not to trip over it's roots which were so heavily embedded in the ground. Maia reveled at the likeliness the tree held to the one she saw back in Washington all those weeks ago. The sight of it made a soft exhale fall from her mouth.

"It's just like ..." She trailed off, realizing she was speaking out loud. "It's beautiful, Jon. Exactly as I expected."

He ran a hand through his hair. "This weirwood is very sacred to the Night's Watch. New members swear their vows before the tree, because oaths sworn before them are considered binding. They're sacred to the religion of the Old Gods of the Forest."

"And you believe in all that?" She raised a brow.

Jon nodded. "In fact, my Lady, it is the only thing I have believed in."

Maia looked closer, noticing the face carved into the front of the bark. The one she leaned against in Washington did not have that, but she never exactly trusted her memory.

"This is a special type of weirwood tree. It is called a heart tree." He explained, moving closer to the roots with her. Jon swore he could feel the heat of her blood radiating off her. "A long time ago, the Children of the Forest carved faces into specific weirwoods. And that –" he pointed to the crimson goo released from the eyes of the face "– is red sap, so that they give off they appearance of weeping tears of blood."

"Well," Maia stood up, "that's slightly terrifying."

The two connected their eyes together as Jon let out a laugh. Maia began blowing warm air into her hands when the chill set into her bones. He watched her slowly start to shiver, feeling the snow cause a shake within his own body as well. Jon took her hands without permission then, wrapping them in his gloved ones.

Maia looked down at their combined hands. She didn't know much of this religion, but she was pretty sure that if this was the place the Night's Watch swore their vows, it may be a little rude to be touching a woman before a heart tree. Or was she thinking too much into this? Either way, she didn't want the moment to stop as her hands began to warm again.

As if it wasn't themselves but the gravity within the air, the pair formed closer to each other, causing Maia to swallow the lump lodged in her throat. "Um – what exactly are your vows again?"

Jon glanced at the heart tree beside them. " _Night gathers, and now my watch begins_ ," he quoted. " _It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come._ "

It was finally then that Maia saw Jon for what he truly was: passionate. No matter what the circumstance was, Jon was passionate. Any person could see it in not only the way he spoke, but in the manner he gave to others. Even in the blackness of his eyes, Maia saw the sparkle within them that showed her how interested he was in helping for a cause. Remembering the past life of his that Derek had described, Maia knew that joining the Night's Watch was made to show that he had a bigger purpose in life than being a bastard. Jon was extraordinary. Not just for his Watch brothers, but for this world as a whole.

Jon slowly slid their conjoined hands to Maia's face, caressing her features as if she were a delicate statue. "You're different," he whispered, and Maia didn't know if she was supposed to hear. Jon then shook his head. "But not in the way you're thinking. I didn't mean it that way – I ... I think you're incredibly special, Maia."

She didn't quite understand his definition of different. Maia could agree that she was different from her train of thought and dress, but she really that different from the girls Jon has been near? Or had Jon Snow not confronted many girls before? Nevertheless, the blonde let out a quick huff as she noticed Jon's face was suddenly so close to hers. She could feel his breath fan her cheeks – they were too close. She wanted to do it; she wanted to kiss Jon Snow. She wanted to forget about her fiancé and Melisandre's seducing and his vows to the Watch and the way she was dropped into this world for no purpose for just one moment. All she wanted was to kiss Jon Snow.

"I – I can't," she bit her lip, angry at herself. "I'm in love with someone else."

Jon's eyes bore into her own. "So am I."

His mouth pressed hard against her lips, which he noted were too soft for being in a place such as the Wall. She tasted of nature: of nuts, berries, and honey. She was beautiful; she was an angel sent to help them – somehow. He didn't understand why she came to them or how, but he was going to relish in this minute so he could kiss a girl without feeling guilt, all the while repeating in his head, _This is what Ygritte would've wanted._

Maia wanted to feel the same. She wanted this to be her purpose of being in this world – in his world. But deep within her heart, she knew she needed to ignore it's frantic pulses because it couldn't be what she wanted. Her purpose was to get back to her own time, but now, that was going to be fairly difficult.


	12. PROGRESS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia begins to forget Derek as she makes progress with Jon.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER TWELVE

#####  **__________________________**

**MAIA** plaited her hair into one long braid that morning. She hadn't seen a mirror in weeks; she had no idea what she looked like. For all she knew, she could've been walking around with a stain on her lip this whole time. She was terrified to see the evident bags under her eyes.

But somehow, Lord Commander Jon Snow had found her beautiful.

She opened her door to get to her morning duties for the day, when suddenly she was side-tracked by almost tripping over something at the entrance. Maia bent down to pick up the book left outside, tossing it around in her fingers. Engraved on the cover in big gold letters was "THE NORTH," and she began flipping through the pages, though she stopped when she found a single object.

In the middle of the book, shut between two pages of a one chapter's ending and another beginning with the title, "Beauty is Grace," was a pressed rose.

Maia strode over to her window to admired the dried flower in the light. She smiled at the memorial of a single part of nature, because it wasn't like you saw flowers that often at Castle Black. Somehow, Jon thought her to be so special to gift her something as this.

She looked down at the men fighting in the courtyard, her eyes immediately connecting to Jon's. He was watching her admire the pressed rose and smiled that she thought it be a touching gesture. Letting out a breath, he got back to training the new recruits.

Maia was pleased at the act he had done – almost believing that he was too real to be true. But deep inside, she knew none of this world was true.

She hated being undercover with him, if she were being honest. The only moments she had a chance alone with him was under the darkness of night and in small rooms of the castle that no one would check. The fear of being caught was always hanging over Jon's head.

The scariest part of it all, you may ask? Maia was sure she was continuing this to fill the void of Derek, and he for Ygritte. She didn't mind at all.

She hadn't thought of Derek in a long time – _too long_. She was happier without the worry. Thinking about her fiancé led to worry and thus more stress on her part to leave a world she wasn't sure she wanted to leave. This world was so much more care-free, but terrifying also. In her time, she didn't have to live in constant fear of a never-ending winter or practical ice zombies crashing down her door. The biggest thing she worried about was taxes. But maybe that was her reason to stay: the thrill; the adrenaline.

Alliser Thorne had even called Jon out on his suspicions of the Lord Commander having sexual relations with one of the females boarded at the castle. Many of his brothers suspected Melisandre, but Maia noticed Ser Alliser staring at her throughout the entire meeting. His skepticism was immediately shot down by Maester Aemon.

That night, she remembered Gilly turning to her during their sewing time and asking, "So who do you think Ser Alliser thought Jon was lying with?"

In a simple response, Maia shrugged.

**__________________________**

"Put your shield up!"

"This isn't a real fight, big-shot. Calm down."

Jon chuckled at her joke as Maia threw her shield up higher to block her features. The Lord Commander had decided the night sky was the best of times to prepare for an attack. He was afraid of Maia not being able to defend herself at the next chance of a nightmare, so he had offered to give her basic training that night in the courtyard. The only problem for her was that she couldn't say no.

He swung the wooden sword in her direction, and the blonde quickly dodged it with her shield. She shoved herself into him, luckily knocking his fake weapon from his hands. He leered towards her as she scrambled on her next move. She finally approached him quickly, propelling her wooden sword into his chest in the worst way possible.

She held the wood there for a long moment as he contemplated a response. "Next time," he advised, "don't _think_ before trying to kill me."

Maia rolled her eyes and let her hands fall to her sides. "I don't understand why you insist on teaching me this. If I ever come face to face in a terrible situation, I'm not going to have a sword on me just like that." She threw the shield and sword into the mud. "I'm going to use my fists."

"Is that so?" He smirked, hurling his own weapons away as well. "I don't believe it."

She raised a brow. "Afraid to beaten by a woman?"

Jon slowly leaned into a fighting stance, lifting his fists. Maia did the same, and before the raven-haired man could blink, she was already sprinting towards him. The second she remained near to his face, he smiled, suddenly pulling her in close. Afraid that those up late would see them under the dim firelight in the courtyard, Maia pushed herself way.

"No one's awake," he laughed.

Before he could finish his sentence, Maia rammed her fist into his nose.

Jon was sent towards the ground, his whole body seemingly getting covered in mud and dirt. She clasped a hand to her mouth as she watched Jon shake his head from disorientation. He exclaimed, "Seven hells, Maia!"

She knelt down in the mud beside him, trying her best to hold his fractured nose as blood poured out. "I'm so sorry!" She began to repeat. "I thought we were practicing and I didn't think I was _actually_ going to hit you!"

"You broke my bloody nose," he muttered, holding the bloody nostril with his dear life.

She tore a part of her linen shirt and held it to the wounded area. "I thought someone was going to see us and I panicked," she whispered.

"Maia," he suddenly chortled, "you smashed my fucking nose."

"Why are you _laughing_?"

His laughter turned overwhelming. "Because _you_ broke _my_ nose!" He chuckled. "We're making progress."


	13. KILL THE BOY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia makes a split decision after overhearing an important conversion between Jon and Maester Aemon.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER THIRTEEN

#####  **__________________________**

**DREAMS** took Maia to her past that she was grateful to remember.

_She could just see the reflection of their television from the small kitchen. Maia looked to her left, washing the dish soap from her hands. She dropped the last clean plate in it's place before realizing Derek was screaming at whatever he was playing on the TV. She approached him from behind, resting her hands on their sofa and ruffling the top of her fiancé's hair._

_"I forgot it was Sunday." She mused, kissing his head. "I'm guessing we aren't having that_ Star Trek _movie marathon?"_

_He shook his head. "Not tonight, babe."_

_Maia huffed, plopping herself next to Derek on the couch. She tried to keep her attention on the screen, watching an incredibly choreographed fight scene occur – one full of blood, snow, and swords. She narrowed her eyes, knowing the exact show her fiancé watched every Sunday._

_"So what's happening on tonight's_ Game of Thrones _episode?"_

_Derek smirked her way. "Jon Snow's life – you remember him? – has just took a turn for the worst. Him and his Wildling friend, Tormund – I'm sure I told you about him – went to this fishing village called Hardhome full of other Wildlings to talk to their chieftains so they can pass through the Wall."_

_"And why would Mr. Jon Snow want that?" She raised a brow. "I remember you saying once that his Watch hated these Wildlings."_

_"He has a soft spot for them."_

_Maia turned back to the TV, absentmindedly running her fingers through Derek's hair. She watched this Jon Snow and his friends fight against an overwhelming army of ice zombies. "Doesn't seem like Hardhome turned out very well."_

_"Yeah," Derek agreed, watching Jon sail away on a boat from the fight. "Now all his friends are the living dead in icicle form."_

_"Do you think I would look good in icicle form?"_

_He only chuckled._

_The television flashed to a scene of the Night's King raising his arms, lifting the thousands of dead Wildlings back to life as Jon stared in terror. Though Maia didn't know the point of this TV show her fiancé adored, she could feel the shiver run through both their bones at the look of the Night's King. It was a glower that said, "We're coming."_

_As if she were transported into that world, Maia suddenly felt their true fear. Why couldn't they have just watched_ Star Trek _?_

**__________________________**

"And though Daenerys maintains her grip on Slaver's Bay, forces rise against her from within and without. She refuses to leave until the freedom of the former slaves are secure."

Maia glanced up from the book resting in her hands, eyes focusing on the piece of parchment that dangled from Sam's fingertips. She remembered Derek speaking of this Daenerys: _She's only, like, the hottest character on the show – quite literally. She owns three dragons that are her children and she can even walk through fire. She has too many titles to count, but to name a few: Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Mother of Dragons, Mhysa ... the list goes on. I hope she ends up ruling on the Iron Throne._

"She sounds like quite a woman." Sam smiled in Maester Aemon's direction, who sat at the head of the table in front of them.

The maester nodded. "And she's alone, under siege, no family to guide her or protect her." He looked away from Sam, as if he could see the underlying future ahead. "The last relation thousands of miles away: useless and dying."

"Don't say that, Maester Aemon."

Maia stuck her head up again from her book, which, coincidentally, was about the famous houses within the Seven Kingdoms. "You're related to her?"

"Of course, I am," he smiled, just the tiniest bit. "She is my great-niece."

Sam lofted a brow. "You didn't know of Maester Aemon's lineage?"

"Never thought to ask," she shrugged.

The maester continued to think out loud, "A Targaryen ... alone in the world ... is a terrible thing."

"Why is that?"

Both heads turned Maia's way, and she sat dumbfound. Maester Aemon rested a hand on the book in her hands, aged digits tapping on the page she was on currently. "Is there a part dedicated to the Targaryen house in this volume?"

She nodded. "I suppose there should be."

"Brush up on your history of the Mad King, Lady Sanders." Aemon's light eyes bore into the space in front of her. "Only then will you understand the significance of why a Targaryen shouldn't be alone ... in a cruel world such as ours."

Maia hadn't heard Derek mention the Mad King in the past, and she guessed he hadn't known about the ruthless king either. Suddenly, she was reminded of her fiancé waiting back home, and she couldn't help but feel no remorse. He must be going absolutely crazy, thinking she to be dead at this point. But for some reason, Maia didn't care one bit.

The sound of boots clicking against the floor boards halted the trio's conversation, and they all hastily looked to see who was waiting at the door.

Jon's eyes flickered to Maia's, resting them for a long moment on her delicate face, all pale and red from the winter outside. After realizing that he had been relishing in her beauty for far too long, he turned to Sam and the maester.

"Maester Aemon."

The old man took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Lord Commander."

"Sam," Jon called before looking at the blonde in the room, "Maia, I would like to speak to the maester alone."

The two nodded, gathering their books and manuscripts as they quickly rushed out of the library. "Have a good evening, Maester Aemon," Maia addressed while leaving. Sam nodded to Jon as he scurried off.

She looked to the ceiling, meeting Jon's eyes as she headed for the door. He still had a bruise covering his nose. Their chocolate eyes held a gaze for a moment, allowing her to whisper, "Goodnight, Lord Commander."

He watched her close the door, muttering back, "And to you also."

But she did not leave. Maia recently realized that if she were to make it in this world, she would have to know as much information as possible. She closed the door to the library enough for her to look through a small crack, hearing their mumbles clearly.

"Very beautiful, that one." Aemon mused. "Very kind. I see the way you stare, even with my old eyes."

Jon removed his gloves as he strode into the room, sitting on the stool next to the maester. He tried to ignore the older man's words, who could clearly not see anything through his eyes, but he appreciated the thought. The light of the candle flickered amongst the room, and Jon could smell a hint of vanilla from it that mixed with the aging of the parchment in various shelves. Maia smelt like that sometimes.

"How are you feeling?" The Lord Commander queried, ignoring his statement from before.

The maester chuckled, looking away from Jon, and he didn't know if it was because he was going blind or didn't want to see him. "Oh, like a hundred-year-old man slowly freezing to death."

Jon cracked a smile. "I need your advice."

Maia lifted a brow from behind the door.

"There's something I want to do. Something that ... I have to do, but it'll divide the Night's Watch. Literally, half of the men will hate me the moment I give the order."

Maester Aemon's light pupils were entranced by the candlelight before him, and though he could barely see it, he reveled in the warmth it provided from the cold. "Half the men hate you already, Lord Commander." He laughed softly. "Do it."

"But you don't _know_ what it is –"

"That doesn't matter," Aemon interrupted. "You do."

Jon was surprised when the maester lifted his elderly hand to his face, running the shivering fingers through the knots of his dark hair. He remembered Maia doing the same thing once.

"You'll find little joy in your command," the maester advised. "But with luck, you'll find the strength to do what needs to be done."

Maia began chewing her nail. She knew the command Jon was going to make; her mind told her directly in her recent dream. He's going to allow the Wildlings to pass freely through the Wall to build their army. _I'm at the time he's going to sail for Hardhome_ , she thought, _where most of his men get slaughtered by White Walkers._

"Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us." Aemon took a breath. "Kill the boy, and let the man be born."

Jon looked down, nodding his head at the maester's words.

Though Maia had already decided. She wasn't going to let him leave for Hardhome.


	14. KEEPING SECRETS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon questions Maia when she tries to forbid him from sailing to Hardhome. She comes close to revealing her secret, but is she ready to finally tell him?

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER FOURTEEN

#####  **__________________________**

**DOZENS** of cheers and screams riddled amongst the common room, almost shaking the floorboards beneath them. Maia stood next to King Stannis and Ser Davos, picking at her nails and wishing this time had headphones to plug into her ears. Oh, did she miss technology.

Jon was currently looking down at his feet as he stood, listening to his council criticized beside him: "You bring Wildlings _here_? Through _our_ gates?"

He slammed his fist on the head table, causing Maia to look up at his stern expression. "Men, women, and children will die by the _thousands_ if we do nothing!"

"Let them die!" Ser Othell exclaimed. "We got our own to worry about. Less enemies for us."

Cheers were shouted from the crowd of brothers. Jon's eyes connected with Maia's, and he found himself swallowing down the lump in his throat.

"Fewer," Stannis sighed, correcting the man's speech.

Maia snickered as Davos turned. "What?"

"Nothing," the King muttered, glancing in Maia's direction.

Sam stood from his table in front of Jon's. "There is good farmland in the Gift." He advised, causing others to laugh at him. "Land that no one uses now. A dozen of abandoned villages."

"Then why do you think the farmers abandoned those villages?" Ser Bowen countered. "Because the Wildlings raided them for years. Cut them down! Just like they did to this boy's people!" He said, pointing to Olly as his fellow brothers shouted in agreement.

Maia stood in the back, studying the men around her. There was so much negativity towards the Wildlings, and she understood, but that didn't make the Night's Watch any less innocent. They had done the exact same to the Free Folk. She understood Jon's point then: there was no greater time to make peace than during the brink of war.

Alliser Thorne piped up in usual gravel voice. "We've been fighting them for thousands of years. They've slaughtered villages. They've slaughtered our brothers."

"We slaughtered theirs," Jon whispered to Alliser.

Ed stood from his spot next to Sam. "I will follow you anywhere. You know that." He said. "But they killed Grenn and they killed Pip. They killed fifty of our brothers. I can't forget that. I can't forgive it."

"Haven't they done the same?" Maia whispered to Stannis. He nodded, and she noticed a couple of brothers turn to glare at her.

Jon looked towards his friend. "You were at the Fist of the First Men. If we abandon them, you know what they become. We can learn to live with the Wildlings or we can add them to the army of the dead." He met the eyes of the members around him. "Whatever they are now, they're better than that."

The shouts began again as Stannis and Maia glanced at one another. The Baratheon King breathed heavily through his nostrils before exiting the common room, leaving Maia behind in the corner. She looked towards the front again, noticing Jon staring at her. He nodded for her to depart.

**__________________________**

Maia sped throughout Castle Black, trying to follow Jon's steps whilst tripping on her own skirt. She smelt the burning of candles wafting from the desired location, and she didn't even stop to knock as she barged in the room.

Jon had been hanging his cloak on a spare hook when she arrived, causing himself to spin around. "I knew you'd be coming after that meeting." He sighed, resting his mallet on a table. "But I hope you aren't here to tell me not to let the Wildlings through. I don't need –"

"Forget about that." She interrupted as he drew near. "You can't sail for Hardhome."

He was resting his hands on her shoulders as the words flew out. "How do you know about that?"

"Maester Aemon speaks to me about everything." She excused, taking a seat on top of his desk.

Jon shrugged. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but I must."

" _No_ , you're not _hearing_ me, Jon." She scoffed, tugging at her hair. "You can't sail there. I forbid it."

He laughed at Maia, causing her to crinkle her brow. "You don't have much say in the matter, love. I have to go to Hardhome to gather the army of Wildlings. You're starting to sound like the rest of these men." He stared into her worried eyes, inching closer as his hands caressed her cloaked arms. "What's troubling you?"

"I just ... I have a terrible feeling about it." She lied, hoping he didn't notice. "Actually, I _know_ something terrible is going to happen."

"And how would you know that?"

Maia opened her mouth to speak, but found no words. He rendered her speechless. She was metaphorically treading into dangerous waters, and the last thing she wanted to do at the moment was blow her secret.

"How would you know _anything_ about the Wildlings or the North? Your books only say so much." He continued, the raging bubbling beneath his skin. "Seven hells, _you_ barely know anything about _yourself_. I don't even know what land you're from. You don't have anything close to the Northern accent. No one here has heard of your name or house. All I know is that you have this _thing_ called a _fiancé_?"

She looked away from him.

Jon tilted his head, trying to search her. "What are you keeping from me?"

Maia met his eyes then. He was utterly confused, racking his brain just to figure her out, because she barely gave any clues otherwise. He had fallen for her personality, not her true character, and he was finally realizing it.

"Jon," she breathed out, fanning his cheeks, "do you ever feel like you weren't meant to be here?"

He nodded. "Of course, I do –"

"By _here_ , I mean this _time_." She paused. "Because most days, I don't believe I was meant for this time. For your world."

He cocked a brow and ran his digits over his face. "I don't understand."

Maia's hands traveled over the leather of his coat. "I believe that ... I know things that are going to happen. I have predictions – _strong_ predictions." She was using as few words as possible, trying not to give herself away. If there was anything the maester told her, it was to play the game.

"You believe in enchantment now?"

She realized he was trying not to chuckle. "I don't know –"

The door swung open, causing the two to separate before the incoming patron could notice. Maia watched Olly carry a hot plate of meal and throw it on Jon's desk. "Thank you," he muttered as the boy began to leave.

"Olly," Jon then called, allowing Maia to wonder if she could slip out before things turned worse. "If you have something you want to say to me, say it. It's alright."

The young boy turned around, walking closer. He looked at Maia – eyes curious at her reason for being there – and then to Jon. "You don't mean it, do you?" He questioned, voice screaming with hurt. "Telling the Wildlings you want to make peace? You're just doing it to trick them."

"It's not a trick," Jon whispered.

Olly narrowed his eyes. "They _burnt_ my village. They put an _arrow_ through my father's head, right in front of me. They _butchered_ my mother and everyone I ever knew."

Maia looked down as Jon walked towards the boy. Olly's eyes bore into his own for a long moment. "I know what it's like to lose the people you love."

Olly only stared.

"I know this is hard for you." Jon agreed. "But winter is coming. We know what's coming with it. We can't face it alone."

The boy continued his glare, looking into the depths of Jon's eyes, knowing that he would never know what he went through. _No one_ would. But Maia noticed it, and she felt it, and she was terrified. Not for Olly, but for the way he was glowering at Jon.

"Will there be anything else you need, Lord Commander?"

Jon shook his head, watching the young one walk out with an unsettling feeling in his stomach. He didn't know if it was his nerves getting the best of him, but the way Olly stared didn't leave him with joy. He let out a sigh and looked back at Maia, who was swallowing a lump in her throat.

"Winter is coming," she nodded, "but I fear something else is coming before it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to let everyone know that I am using a transcript for specific scenes that are taken from the show for this story! You will definitely recognize the scenes, but I wanted to let y'all know so no one thinks I'm copying or anything lol. The whole transcript is online!
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos!
> 
> -Victoria


	15. ANOTHER FEELING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Maia watch over Stannis leaving to capture Winterfell, while Derek tries to come to terms with Maia's disappearance.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER FIFTEEN

#####  **__________________________**

**MAIA** wasn't spoken to about King Stannis' decision to capture Winterfell, but she was hardly ever told anything to begin with.

She stood outside next to Gilly and Sam, watching the men ready themselves to fight in their proper garb. Maia hugged her cloak closer to her chest and awaited the arrival of Jon. She knew he was preparing to sail for Hardhome soon, and she had been trying her hardest to convince him to do otherwise, but she doubted he would listen to her. In this world, she was _only_ a woman.

She glanced up to see Shireen hopping onto her horse, grasping the reins firmly in her gloved hands. She realized she would miss the small girl as she approached her horse, relishing in her young beauty and future ahead. She knew that if anyone in her wretched family was destined for greatness, it would be her.

"I'm going to miss you, Lady Shireen." Maia smiled to the girl. "Promise me you'll return?"

She nodded. "Who else will I be able to discuss my stories with?" She joked, causing both of them to laugh. The child suddenly leaned down low to Maia's ear. "Don't let them push you around here. You and Gilly are the only ones who can influence these boys greatly."

Maia grinned softly when Shireen had moved away. For such a young girl, she knew what was right. She had seen more in her few years than anyone else.

"I think that is enough small talk, Lady Sanders." Selyse Baratheon advised from behind. "We are to leave soon."

"Goodbye to you too," Maia muttered under her breath while walking away.

The blonde went back to her spot by Sam and Gilly, noticing the way the Baratheon mother shunned her daughter from waving to the people beside her. Maia raised a brow. There was something about Selyse that didn't feel right, and she knew that from the moment she said hello and the Queen simply ignored her.

Maia's eyes finally rested on Jon parading throughout the grounds of the courtyard. He was seen on the deck of Castle Black, ending a conversation with a gruff-looking Stannis Baratheon, who took a double-take at her as he passed. The King stopped his steps to stand in front of the blonde once again.

"Thanks for not murdering me in my sleep like others predicted," he said, not one hint of humor.

Maia smirked. "Forgive me, but I never planned on it, Your Grace."

He nodded before striding away to his horse. Maia gave a wave to her friends and began to make her way up the wooden stairs to the deck where Jon was placed. She sauntered slowly, careful not to disturb his presence. The Lord Commander noticed her coming though, for he could sense her beauty from a mile away.

He savored the way the cold caused her cheeks and nose to flush a bright red. The way the snow fell on top of her already light hair allowed her to blend in with winter itself, for she was the human embodiment of a storm. She was the heavy hail during a blizzard. She was laughter heard over thunder. Her touch was like breathing – simple and graceful. But her kiss – oh, her kiss – it was like feeling snowflakes adorn your skin for the first time.

Sometimes, Jon realized he barely knew anything about the woman he was so unmorally infatuated with, but in this cruel world that they were damned to live in, she seemed to be the only thing that gave him joy, even behind closed doors. He liked to believe she was perfect, but truthfully, she was far from it. Maia Sanders was stubborn and slightly rude. She had crinkles under her eyes and slurs in her teeth. Not to mention, he was pretty sure she was keeping a lot secrets from him, but he just needed to figure out _what_.

Jon always fell for the women who would soon destroy him: Ygritte was the fire, and now Maia was the storm.

He need not look in her direction as she stood to his right, hand stroking his back in comfort and so no one else could see. Maia squinted from the snowflakes falling in her eyes, questioning, "Why is he leaving?"

"He's going to take Winterfell. He couldn't wait no longer." Jon watched the army create a riding stance. "They're not going to win."

Maia looked at him, brow furrowed. "And why is that?"

"You know who maintains Winterfell at the moment, correct?" He asked, and when she shook her head, he continued. "The Boltons, and they'll slaughter him. They've done the same to many others."

_Stannis had planned to siege Winterfell_ , she remembered Derek's words so clearly in her head. _He was an idiot not to think the Boltons wouldn't know. Ramsay – the craziest fucking guy ever – and his army met them in an open field and charged. Stannis' army was completely defeated, but sadly, Ramsay and his army didn't kill him. Brienne of Tarth did, a.k.a. the most bad ass chick ever. She killed him for when he killed his own brother in the past, who Brienne served. She chopped his head right off and – let me tell you, it was awesome._

"You're right," Maia nodded. "He's not going to win."

Jon glanced towards her. "Another feeling?"

" _Another_ feeling."

He looked to his feet, hands falling behind his cloak so one could clasp her left. Maia smiled at the gesture, but was nervous of any wandering eyes regardless. His digits ran over her own, causing him to whisper, "I'm having another feeling too."

**__________________________**

Derek's suitcase lay untouched by his bedside. He hadn't bathed in days and he only managed to move to get himself another beer, no matter what time of the day it was.

He had returned from Washington weeks ago and called the police department there every day, but his ability was slowly deteriorating to once every week. The worst was canceling the wedding, and hearing his family sob over the terrible luck. Maia had never really talked to her own family since she moved out, at least that's what she told him, and when he called their landline to tell them of the news, he got no answer.

He didn't know what to do with himself. It had been _months_ since Maia's disappearance, so should he just presume her dead? Derek learned from the news that disappearances that went longer than a month were usually murders, but he didn't want to believe it.

What he thought to happen was, essentially, a lie. Derek would never suspect his fiancé to have fallen into the world of his favorite television show. He would never suspect her to forget about him, and he most definitely wouldn't have expected her to fall in love with someone else.

Maybe she was as good as dead.

He realized he had been staring at his television mindlessly, not knowing what was being broadcasted. Derek slowly reached over to his bedside table to pick up his phone. He dialed the number that he knew from memory, someone he hadn't called in weeks. He smelled his shirt, which reeked of an unholy stink.

The ringing continued for the longest minute of his life, but he waited, drumming his fingers on his leg. Soon, he reached the voicemail:

"Hello, you've reached Maia Sanders. I can't get to my phone right now, but please leave your name and number after the beep!"

Her sweet, caring voice echoed in his ears. Derek felt tears welling up in his eyes as he called the number again, and again, and again until he wanted to feel his ears bleed. Why did this have to happen to him? To _her_? Had he never appreciated her enough? He was sure he had, because of the state he was in now. He was crying over a gone girl who was probably dead.

Truthfully, she wasn't yet. But she would be if she stayed at Castle Black, because winter was coming.


	16. SAFE TRAVELS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia and Sam give Jon a tearful goodbye as he leaves for Hardhome, before caring for a dying Maester Aemon with Gilly later on.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER SIXTEEN

#####  **__________________________**

**WHEN** Jon Snow had his mind set on something, he did it.

Maia had spent the entire night prior with him, trying to convince him that leaving for Hardhome was _not_ a good idea. She didn't care about him bringing the Wildlings to the Wall; she cared about the battle they would endure when they reached Hardhome. But she couldn't possibly tell him that – what would he actually _think_ of her? – so she had to deliver her information in mixed messages. It didn't work.

She stood in the courtyard yet again, Sam by her side with a suspicious bag of items he wouldn't share. The snowflakes never ceased from the sky above, and Maia began swatting them away every second as she watched some of the Night's Watch brothers ready their horses for travel.

"Jon told me that you were trying a little bit too hard last night to sway him into not departing for Hardhome." Sam chuckled, looking in the blonde's direction. "You care about him, don't you?"

Maia shrugged. "I fear for the worst, Sam. He doesn't realize the threat that exists by leaving –"

"The threat still exists even inside Castle Black," he interrupted. "Best know that."

She was close to firing back a response, but considered it useless. Her attention was then brought to Ed and an unknown brother, who were seen escorting Tormund Giantsbane from the dungeons. They silently met up with Jon in the middle of the courtyard with Tormund looking down at the Lord Commander in usual grueling manner. With a nod, Ed unclasped the cuffs around Tormund's wrists.

Jon then proceeded to walk over to Ser Alliser, whom he was leaving the castle to for the time being. Maia couldn't hear their conversation, but she was sure Alliser was criticizing his decision, and for once, she agreed. She didn't hate the Wildlings – not at all – but she was terrified of what may come from their trip.

Maia noticed Olly staring at Jon as he passed, eyes narrowed in a cruel way, before they laid on her. She immediately looked away as Jon approached her and Sam, a grin gracing his handsome features.

"Safe travels, Lord Commander." Sam greeted. "Maia and I will thoroughly take watch when Alliser cannot."

Jon smiled softly. "Thank you both."

"Oh, and –" The larger man held up the bag in his hands, which Jon took with a crinkled brow. "It's dragon glass. It's what I used to kill the White Walker. I hope you don't need them."

The Lord Commander nodded, taking a piece up into the light before throwing it back in. "Me too," he muttered, hugging his friend tightly.

Jon turned to Maia, clasping a hand on her shoulder with a sullen expression. Before he could walk away, she moved closer and wrapped her arms around him. The raven-haired man was caught off guard at first, and then allowed his own arms to hug her. As she nestled her head into the fur on his cloak, she heard him whisper, "You don't need to make a scene."

"I don't care," she retorted in a hush, pulling him tighter. "Let them look."

He held her for one more moment, allowing her sweet scent to fill his memory. She was fresh from a bathing, he presumed, as the trace of soap and vanilla still lingered on her hair and skin. He wanted to make sure if this was his last moment with her – Maia, the eye of the storm – that he would remember the smell of vanilla. Maybe she had been correct, but he wasn't going to turn his back on the Wildlings otherwise. In the end, he felt it was what Ygritte would've wanted, and he wasn't leaving her death in the dust.

He couldn't believe how easily he had fallen in this dreaded pit again. In the past, Ygritte had said, "You're mine," and even after death, he kept that promise. He had used Maia at first as a gateway to his loneliness, but now he couldn't deny the care she gave him in his heart. It was like the Gods had given him a second chance.

Jon slowly stood away, giving Maia one last stare before hopping onto his horse. He couldn't stand to see the sadness in her eyes; he _had_ to look away. Slashing the reins on his horse, he started leading his team to the gates as they opened, all the while Ser Alliser glared from the distance.

Maia watched them leave, not minding the stares she was receiving from the brothers around her. Sam hugged her shoulders as she cried, muffling whispers into his cloak like "I warned him" and "they're going to die."

**__________________________**

Maia lit up the dark, stone-cold room with a few candles as Gilly tried relentlessly to calm down her baby. Sam sat at the end of Maester Aemon's bed, smiling his way as he exclaimed, "There he is!" The old maester patted the child as he lay in his mother's arms.

Aemon's health was slowly deteriorating, but when Jon had left, everything seemed to slip away. It hurt to see the maester in such a state, but the three knew no one else would take care of him in his time of need.

"That laugh," he continued, "Egg! Egg laughed like that. One of the first things I remember."

Maia didn't need her memories of Derek to fill in the gaps, because she had read up on Aegon V Targaryen recently. He was Aemon's younger brother. Long ago, when Aerion, his older brother, died, Aemon almost became King of Westeros, but he refused the crown. After that, Aegon V became King.

Gilly slowly turned to Sam as the maester mumbled happily to himself. "Your little brother, Aegon, became King," Sam proposed.

"And before that, he was a jolly fella, like this one." Aemon mused, hand continuing to caress Little Sam. He laughed as the baby did.

Slowly, Aemon's eyes casted to the crooked ceiling above, and Maia swore she saw a glaze start to cover them. "Get him South, Gilly-flower," he whispered, causing Sam to turn. "All of you, go. Before it's too late."

Gilly sat back, swallowing down a lump lodged in her throat. She stared into the overwhelming lightness of the maester's eyes, and though he could barely see her, he knew he left an impact.

**__________________________**

The crying of Little Sam echoed off the walls, continuing itself for minutes straight. Maia sat in the corner of the room with Gilly, listening to Maester Aemon repeat, "Egg! Egg!"

Both women stood, allowing Gilly to move over to Aemon's bed with Sam. They both sat on each of the maester's sides, trying to help his sickness but knowing nothing could stop it. Maia had seen it before, and knew it wasn't a sickness, but just simply old age. She began to light more candles around the room.

"Mother's looking for you," Aemon mumbled, unaware of Sam and Gilly's watchful eyes. "Egg!"

Maia walked to place herself behind Gilly, seeing Sam wipe his tears away as she felt her own coming as well. Gilly frowned, advising, "Get some sleep, Sam. You'll have to speak for him tomorrow."

Sam shook his head. "You don't know that."

"Get some sleep." She repeated as her eyes rested on Aemon. "Maia and I will watch over him."

Maia nodded. "Don't deny the inevitable, Sam."

"I'm staying too," Sam replied, while the bags under his eyes had never been more prevalent. "He's always been good to me. I can't leave him now."

The room came down to a silence and everything was calm, but then the maester's arm shot out. "EGG!" He screamed as Sam caught his aged fingers. He started breathing heavily, causing Maia to bite her lip. "Egg, I dreamed ... that I was _old_."

Maia grasped Aemon's other hand, sobs racking her body as she witnessed the maester slowly loose his own breath. He had done so much for her, and now he was leaving. He was kind to her when no one else was; he _appreciated_ her.

Sam gingerly put the maester's right hand down and used his own to lay it over his heart. He turned to the two women solemnly to announce, "He's gone."


	17. FAREWELL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers gather together for Maester Aemon's funeral, while Maia finally reveals a secret to someone she trusts.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

#####  **__________________________**

**SHIVERING** from the cold, Maia and the brothers of the Night's Watch gathered around Maester Aemon's buried body. Snowflakes dropped from the sky, floating onto the uncovered face that laid on the ground before them.

Maia stood in the back while all the brothers shared their respects up front. Sam prepared a speech, of course, but wasn't sure if he was going to make it through. Maia thought the same, even by just hearing him speak.

"His name was Aemon Targaryen," Sam spoke defiantly, holding a lit torch. "He came to us from King's Landing. A Maester of the Citadel, chained and sworn, and sworn brother of the Night's Watch, ever faithful. No man was wiser ... or gentler ... or kinder. At the Wall, a dozen Lord Commanders came and went during his years of service, but he was _always_ there to council them."

He paused, allowing himself the time to suck in his sobs. "He was the blood of the dragon, but now his fire has gone out. And now his watch has ended."

"And now his watch has ended," the men around him repeated.

Gilly, while holding her baby, locked one of her arms with Maia's. Her eyes spoke the words, _I'm here_.

Sam lowered the torch in his hands, lighting one end of the maester's burial in flames. He then handed it to Ser Alliser beside him, who did the same. The brothers continued to pass around the torch until the whole funeral was lit up with fire. Even the snow above couldn't douse it.

Alliser slowly went up to Sam's ear as no one else was looking. "You're losing all your friends, Tarly."

Maia, who always had quick hearing, looked Alliser's way, sending him a glare.

Just as Sam was doing the same, she began glancing around at the men. Something had happened to them during the ceremony, though she didn't know what. They all looked _different_ : angrier, full of vengeance. It was almost as if they had a plan.

**__________________________**

Maia grew to love Castle Black's library. Not only was it a good (and only) source for entertainment, but reading endlessly for hours was a distraction for her sadness. Gilly started to figure this out, so when she was looking for the blonde the next day, she knew exactly where to go.

She was snuggled in an old wooden chair, leaning over the table in front of her while a book rested on it. Maia had read over the book about the North that Jon had given her too many times, and she figured that during her missing him, this would help. Truthfully, it only made her miss him more.

Gilly ran down the stairs towards the library, her feet tapping against the stones. "There you are," she sighed. "I've been looking for you since last night! Sam got wounded by a couple of brothers because they had tried to ..." The former Wildling trailed off, refusing to think about the subject.

"It was probably Ser Robin and Ser Paolo." Maia presumed, holding her friend's hands in a way to console her. "How'd you find me?"

"I may be illiterate, but I am not stupid."

Maia chuckled, looking up but soon making a double-take at her friend. "I know _that_ look," she said, pointing to the girl's face. Gilly blushed bright red. "Have you and Sam –?"

"Shh!" Gilly giggled, running over to the stool beside her friend. " _No one_ can know."

"Who am I going to tell? My best friend, Ser Alliser?"

The Wildling shook her head. "It happened last night, after he saved me." She sat back with a smile. "I don't know, it just felt _right_. _I_ felt _right_."

"That's great, Gilly," Maia grinned, but any sane person could tell it was false. "I'm really happy for you."

Gilly shook her head, eyes moving from the book in front of her friend and then back to her face. "Maia, you're not happy."

The blonde gaped. "I –"

"It's okay to be upset about Maester Aemon." She soothed, rubbing her hand on her friend's shoulder. Gilly had seen her yesterday; she knew how heartbroken Maia was. The maester had been one of the first people in Castle Black to treat her kindly.

Maia placed a bookmark in the novel she was reading with a sigh. "It's not just that. I guess, I ... miss –"

"Is it about your care for Jon?"

She narrowed her eyes, taking a moment before responding. "I _don't_ –"

"You're not fooling anyone, Maia," Gilly chuckled. "Well, maybe some, but I knew from the moment Ser Alliser accused Jon for fraternizing with a woman living in Castle Black. Many were convinced it was Melisandre, but I knew better. You had this ... odd look in your eyes, plus you're not a good liar. Don't see this as a bad thing, because you are truly a source of happiness in his life."

Maia laid her chin on her fist. "You don't _understand_." She released a huff. " _I_ don't even _understand_. Not just because of his vow to the Watch, but I generally cannot care for him. Though, I do, and I can't stop."

"What is stopping you?"

She didn't know how to reply. Maia felt her cheeks heat up. Was this the moment? She felt Gilly to be her truest friend at the castle. Surely, she'd understand ... _maybe_. She needed someone – _anyone_ – to just _understand_. What about the repercussions? Clearly, it was a big subject to wrap your head around, especially for people in this world. God, she was taking so long to say something. The words were going to vomit out of her mouth –

"Gilly," she breathed, "if I tell you a secret, can you promise not to tell anyone?"

The Wildling raised a brow. "I promise."

Maia inhaled slowly. She needed to stay calm, because if she didn't, this was going to turn into a havoc. She reached over, taking Gilly's hand into her own. Her friend stared deep into her eyes, practically urging her to continue. Maia knew she was scaring her friend, but secrets such as this took time, and she knew Gilly was the only one she could trust with this information.

"I'm not from Westeros. I'm not from _here_." She paused. "I think I've fallen through time."


	18. TALES OF THE MODERN AGE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia entertains Gilly with stories from her world, and Derek seeks the help of a professional to help him heal from his fiancé's vanishing.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

#####  **__________________________**

**GILLY** had done nothing but ask Maia what her time was like – from entertainment to clothing and speech. The Wildling was mystified by the way Maia had lived, surprising herself that there was world outside of their own.

Maia wasn't used to being so open with someone, but when she had been up since four AM just talking with Gilly, she realized the girl meant a lot to her. Finally confiding in someone felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and really helped to ease the sadness of Maester Aemon's death.

"So ... you use an object called cell ... phones ... to communicate?"

Maia nodded at her friend's question. "They allow you to speak to someone in a different area, even if they're millions of miles away."

The Wildling became dumbfounded by the foreign object. She wished they had as such at the Wall, but knew that it was clearly impossible. "What of your family? I have never heard you mention them, or known of any House Sanders before this news."

Maia glanced upwards, surprised at the question. "My family? We don't speak." She shook her head with a sigh. "After just turning eighteen, I had moved somewhere farther away to continue my education. Women in my time do more than nurse babies and cook; would you believe that they fight for others as well?"

"Not at all."

"They do," Maia nodded. "I haven't seen many women here even know how to read, which troubles me, because I think that everyone should know as such. I had been going to school for twelve years before that, but wanted a more formal education than I was getting. Since the day I left, my family hasn't contacted me. I feel they have forgotten about me, their only child."

Gilly sat back in her seat, confusion adorning her face as she carried on with her questions. "And you came here through a weirwood tree?"

"Technically," the blonde shrugged. "I had seen a tree while on holiday that looked exactly like the one outside of the Wall. I fainted and the next thing I know, I wake up in the middle of winter. That's why I had questioned you about the tree in the past." She sighed at the memories. "Imagine my shock rather than yours."

"You talked about a man named ... Derek, was it?" Gilly asked, for which Maia nodded. "He was this _fiancé_ thing? What is that exactly?"

Maia bit her lip. "It means we were engaged to be married. Our wedding was coming up around the time I came here." She paused. "He's actually a big fan of your world. He explained to me all the lore and information."

"So can you tell the future?"

The blonde took a moment to collect her thoughts before frowning. Truly, she didn't know _everything_ , only small bits and pieces she randomly remembered. She tried to explain this to Jon, but he thought her mad. Maybe in this world, she could theoretically tell the future.

"Oh," Gilly sighed, lying back on the pillows of her bed, "I understand why you can't tell Jon this information now."

"I have told him some things before, but he was intoxicated so I guess it didn't count." Maia eyed a candle on her friend's bedside table. "I can't really tell him. I fear it'll crush him or he'll ... call me a liar. I care too much to hurt him, but I feel as if I'm living a lie."

The Wildling cocked a brow. "Are you still in love with your betrothed?"

"Truthfully?" Maia glanced up, seeing Gilly nod. "I don't know."

**__________________________**

Amusing Gilly with the trials of the real world was Maia's only diversion from thinking about Jon. She had the same recurring dream about the events of Hardhome the entire time he was gone. She couldn't dare to think about while she was sitting in the comfort of Castle Black, Jon was out in the harsh winter and losing half of his men. She didn't know what she would do when he returned.

Speaking of returning, when did she plan to do just that? When was she to finally return to her own time? Maia didn't exactly know. She always a planner, but in this world, she was doing the exact opposite. For once, she wanted to stay here – even if that meant battling the threat of the cold and army of White Walkers on the way.

What Maia felt for Jon was something different: she felt passion. She experienced it in the beginning with Derek, of course, but after being with him for so long, the flame tastefully dwindled. She was caught up in the fantasy of it all, but the moment she realized her feelings for Jon – a man she had only heard stories about from her own fiancé – she realized what she'd been missing, and it terrified her.

The worst part of it all? She wasn't scared for Derek's sake, but for the fact that she would never return to him.

**__________________________**

"We're sorry to inform you, Mr. Swanson, but we have yet to find your fiancé in Washington. I must advise you that we will call you when we find out any other information."

He had heard the statement too many times. Derek was finished – _ultimately finished_. He knew he couldn't keep on calling the Washington police department, but he did it anyways. He didn't care about anything except Maia's disappearance, and if he were being honest, thoughts of suicide might've passed his mind a couple of times. The negativity was addictive.

He sought out help from a therapist, the only person who he thought could actually help him at this point. He expected Mrs. Adams to say the same as the Washington police, or worse: that he was _depressed_. Derek wasn't depressed – per say – he was just unapologetically sad, and could you blame him?

"The police haven't found anything _at all_?" Mrs. Adams asked in disbelief.

Derek nodded, leaning back in the chair she'd given him. Her office was full of different designs meant to calm the eye, but it only made him anxious at the amount of colors he had to stare at. For the past months, all he had looked at was a TV screen, so seeing anything else was astonishing. The scent of incenses filled his nostrils.

"What have you been thinking lately?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Sometimes I think that it should have been me who went missing. Sometimes I wonder if I should just kill myself, but then I remember my parents and that they'd murder me all over again if I went to heaven."

The therapist casually wrote down a couple words in her notes. "What else?"

"I miss her." He stared at the ceiling. "If I ever get really sad, I pull out some of her old shirts and –"

"Mr. Swanson, you and I both know that's not healthy." She interrupted, realizing she needed to word her response better. "I think you need to be put on some form of medication."

Derek furrowed his brow. "What _for_? I'm fine."

Mrs. Adams aged face was unmovable. "You sound severely depressed. I'm going to set you an appointment with your doctor to have you examined."

He sat up, staring at the elder woman in shock. " _Excuse me_ , but I thought being sad about your possibly dead fiancé was normal."

"Being sad, yes, is normal," she nodded, "but having thoughts to kill yourself over your issue requires medical attention. Suicide is no joke."

Derek looked away with a sigh. He wasn't meaning for it to be joke; he wasn't being funny. He did think about it on the daily, but he never believed himself to actually go through with it. He wasn't _that_ sad, but it was only a matter of time before they confirmed Maia's death. He wondered why the Washington police didn't just tell him already.

"Listen, Derek," Mrs. Adams leaned forward in her seat, taking his hands in hers, "I've talked to many adults with depression, and I know everything's going to be okay. You can get through this."

She sounded confident in her words – so confident that she thought she could convince him. But she didn't. No one could.


	19. PURPOSE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finally returns from Hardhome.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER NINETEEN

#####  **__________________________**

**"IS** Jon going to be okay?"

"I really don't remember."

Now that Gilly knew Maia's biggest secret, she constantly felt the need to ask the future of everyone she knew, even though she barely remembered much. She wasn't the fan of the show; her _former_ fiancé was. Maia was lucky to remember bits and pieces sometimes to help her along the way, but knowing half of what Jon was going through at Hardhome was wrecking her from the inside out. She knew what happened exactly, but wasn't sure if he was returning, and she began racking her brain for some small bit of memory.

The two women were mending some clothes for the Watch when the conversation arose. Maia turned to her friend with a sigh. "All I can remember is that a White Walker army attacked Hardhome, thus killing half of the Wildlings for themselves. I saw the dead rise again. I remember the Night's King looking at Jon with a smile, and even though I wasn't there, I ..." She shuddered at the thought.

"But –"

Maia pointed a finger at her. "Now, you can't tell anyone, correct? Not even Sam." She laced her needle with thread through the cloth in her fingers. "Half of the Watch already despises me anyways. I don't need them accusing me of being some kind of witch."

Gilly nodded, releasing a huff. She tried to continue her work, but after a moment of silence, she became distracted again. "Are you worried about him?"

"Yes, all the time." The blonde admitted, sewing her piece of clothing together rather aggressively. "I told him not to go. I told him I felt like something bad was going to happen, but he wouldn't listen."

Gilly rested her hand on her friend's. "Maia," she called, "we might all just be fictional to you and you might know what happens to us in the future, but you can't reverse time. Things happen for a reason."

Maia nodded, realizing Gilly had made a valid point. Knowing all the information she did was a make or break deal. It was good to know, but it could ruin the stories of characters that everyone adored. She had the power to destroy the timelines of everyone, and that was horrifying.

**__________________________**

Random strands fell across her forehead as she knotted her hair into a tight bun. Maia needed to wake early, like everyday, to gather ingredients for the day's meals with Hobb. She was trying to be positive with Jon gone, telling herself that today would be a good day.

Clasping her cloak around her shoulders, she looked up at the sound of heels at her doorway.

"He's here!" Gilly exclaimed. "Jon has returned!"

Maia sped at the speed of light through Castle Black with her friend, winding through the twists in the hallways. They finally reached the outside, and despite the shivering of the cold, they were just in time to catch the army filing in through the gates. Flakes from the sky dotted Maia's vision until her eyes found Jon's.

He had been shaken. His hair disheveled. A gash lined his forehead, splotches of blood staining his features. She absentmindedly lifted a hand to her mouth in horror. Everything she had predicted – no, _remembered_ – it was all true, and she could see it on his face.

She looked around at the men surrounding the castle: their faces screamed _hate_. They all _hated_ Jon, and Olly's glare was the worst.

The army of Wildlings didn't stop as they flooded through their entrance, but weirdly enough, she expected more. They were all sad, downtrodden even. Her orbs went wide at the sight of their giant walking through the gates of the Wall. "Seven hells," she breathed out.

And then, Jon stared at _her_. In the pale morning light, he still couldn't fathom her beauty as he watched her tired eyes gawk at the army he returned with, even her hair was disheveled from the storm in the sky. His wounds were bad enough, but he was still recovering from the broken nose she gave him. The memory almost made him feel better by just looking at her, and knowing that out of all, she was okay. All he needed was for her to be okay.

Alliser Thorne appeared next to him and began surveying the crowd. "You have a good heart, Jon Snow." He stated before staring at his Lord Commander. "It'll get us all killed."

**__________________________**

Maia knew Jon had been sitting in his room cooly for an hour, but she figured he needed some time to think. He looked recklessly beaten up at first sight, though little did she know that she was all he needed at the moment.

She moved graciously to his door, swallowing down the lump in her throat. She didn't know what she was going to say. She didn't want to say anything. Maybe she shouldn't go see him. He was probably busy or aiding the Wildlings. She shouldn't –

Maia felt as if her brain was going to implode. She shook her head, pushing the door open to his chambers.

He had been sitting on his desk, head resting in his hands. The second she arrived, he glanced up at her shaking form. Before she could even breathe, he was already on his feet, wrapping his leather-clad arms tightly around her. She buried her head into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in the musk of the outside, while he did the same.

"I love you so much," he whispered, holding the back of her head in his calloused hands. "Thank you."

She didn't understand why he was thanking her, but she nodded regardless. She was there and that was all that mattered.

"You were right, Maia." His grasp grew tighter. "Something bad did happen. I saw _them_."

She leaned away, pushing a few locks of hair from his face. Blood crusted around the scar on his forehead. "You don't have to say that."

"But you were _right_ ," he muttered, his voice becoming louder. He moved away and walked towards his desk. "I had to fight off an army of Wights. Lost half of the Wildlings we needed. I failed them." He rubbed at his eyes. "I killed one of _them_."

Maia shook her head. "Did you see how many you managed to _save_ , Jon? You didn't fail them, and you especially didn't fail the Watch."

He looked away.

"Forget about what Ser Alliser said. Forget about all the glares." She cupped his face in her hands. "Look at me."

Jon's dark orbs slowly slid up to her own. He gulped.

"I am so _proud_ of you." She swallowed the bile rising in her throat as she leaned her head on his. "I am so glad you're back. I care about you more than you understand – more than _I_ understand. Do you have any idea how much I've worried about you while you were gone? I had to mask it as well, in fear that your brothers would realize. I couldn't sleep most nights. I only had Gilly and Sam to talk to."

Maia looked towards the ceiling, sucking in a sob. "And then Maester Aemon ... Before he passed, he spoke to Gilly. He said that we three needed to leave." Their eyes locked as her fingers caressed the stains on his cheeks. "But I knew I couldn't leave the Wall until I knew you were safe."

"I hope you realize one day," he muttered, "that I fight to be with you. You are my purpose now. I thank the Gods for bringing you to me."

Jon pressed his lips to her own, savoring the chill they held within them. He loved to kiss her and relish in the warmth they had together. He loved the way her hands cupped his own. He loved the way that, no matter what, she always made his decisions feel sane. He loved the way she knew things he didn't. He loved her through and through, and even he was surprised at that fact.


	20. LONG MAY THEY SNEER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam proposes an idea to Jon and Maia, which just might save him, Gilly, and Little Sam.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER TWENTY

#####  **__________________________**

**THROWING** another piece of wood into the fireplace, Maia watched the flames crackle and spit out random sparks in her direction. She wasn't the best at creating a fire, and was currently struggling as Sam and Jon spoke in the chilly, stone room. Usually, they would've had their conversation in private, but both men knew that they trusted Maia enough now to be fine with her presence. Honestly, she was glad to finally feel welcome in any setting.

" _He_ raised his hands ... and they stood up at once." Jon muttered, staring off into nowhere. "Tens of thousands of them. The biggest army in the world."

Maia looked up from the fire to meet his eyes. He was utterly terrified.

Sam glanced at his hands on the table. "What're you going to do?"

"I'm going to hope they don't learn to climb the Wall." Jon released a fake smile before taking a gulp of the drink in his cup.

"But ... the dragon glass?"

The Lord Commander shook his head. "No one's ever getting that back now. It wouldn't have matter anyway. There must have been a mountain of it."

Maia stood up, dusting off her hands as Sam muttered, "But you _killed_ a _White Walker_."

"With Longclaw," Jon finished. "Some shattered steel and acted like they were glass, but Longclaw –"

"Isn't Longclaw Valyrian steel?" Maia questioned.

Both heads turned to her. "In fact, it is Valyrian steel. How did you come to find out?" Sam questioned.

"It gets very boring around here sometimes." She replied, taking a seat across from Jon. "I've found that reading all your books is fine entertainment. I think I've read up on Valyrian steel so much I could make my own sword."

He chuckled, looking at Jon. "How many Valyrian steel swords are left in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Not enough."

Maia rested her hand on Jon's arm, even though Sam sat right beside them, watching it all. He didn't speak a word. Jon sighed, thanking her with only his eyes.

"The first Lord Commander in history to sacrifice the lives of sworn brothers to save the lives of Wildlings," he mumbled, and the two friends didn't know if they were meant to hear. "How does it feel to be friends with the most hated man in Castle Black?"

Maia smiled softly. "We're still here, aren't we?"

"You were friends with me when I first came here." Sam recounted. "And I wasn't winning any elections back then."

Jon raised his cup. "Here's to us then. Long may they sneer."

They both raised their glasses, clinking them together. Maia faked a glass around her hands, touching theirs with her own and causing them to crack a laugh. The Watch brothers took a large gulp.

Jon had noticed Sam taking a long pause, inciting him to ask, "What?"

Maia stood again when she noticed the fire dying out, and went over to sit down in front of it. The warmth was enticing and she moved around the wood to keep the flames ignited.

"I wanted to ask you something." Sam muttered, looking at his hands. "To ask something of you."

Jon urged his friend to continue.

Sam nodded as he grasped his cup for dear life. "Send me, Gilly, and the baby to Oldtown so I can become a maester." He couldn't help but recoil at his friend's shocked expression. "That's what I'm meant to be. Not this."

Maia's eyes went wide as she spun around to look at Sam.

"I need you here, Sam."

"I need you here too." The blonde agreed from her spot on the grungy floor. "What am I going to do without you or Gilly to talk to?"

The Lord Commander began to plead. "If you leave, who's left to give me advice I trust?"

"Well, there's Ed. And you have Maia here as well." Sam suggested with a shrug. "I'll be more use to you as a maester. More use to everyone now that Maester Aemon's gone. The Citadel has the world's greatest library. I'll learn about ... history, strategy, healing, and other things. Things that'll help when ... when _they_ come."

Maia glanced back at the fire, relaxing her chin on her fist. "That sounds better than the books Castle Black has."

"Don't you think about leaving too," Jon seethed lowly, turning back to his friend.

Sam didn't know how else to word his begging. "If Gilly stays here then she'll die. And the baby she named after me will die. And I'll end up dying too, trying to protect them. Which means that the last thing I'll see in this world will be the look in her eyes when I failed them, and I'd rather see a thousand White Walkers then see that."

Maia knew Sam was right. With all the convicts in the Night's Watch, being a woman around Castle Black was enough of a threat. Having a baby there in the dead of winter was worse. She would miss her friend greatly, but the only way for her to be safe was to leave. Maia, for a split second, considered that option as well, but knew she couldn't leave Jon on his own.

Jon looked at his hands before releasing a long huff. He nodded slowly. Sam smiled at his friend's kindness, muttering, "Thank you."

The Lord Commander suppressed a grin. "You know that the Citadel will make you swear off women too."

"Oh, they'll bloody try."

Maia and Jon laughed. She noticed his hand inching lower to lie on his thigh under the table, and she reached her hand upward to cup his own.

Jon continued to stare at his friend with curious eyes. "Sam."

"What?" The larger man's expression screamed guiltiness.

" _Sam_." Jon clarified, watching Sam start to smirk. "You've just been beaten after death. How did you –?"

Sam chuckled. "Very carefully."

Maia patted Sam's spot. "Gilly had the same look. Don't worry."

The sworn brothers laughed together, and the blonde couldn't help but enjoy the sincere happiness on their faces. Jon took a sip of his drink. "I'm glad the end of the world is working out well for someone."

"I'll come back," Sam promised.

Jon nodded, raising his glass. "Till' you return."

"Until I return."

**__________________________**

Sam readied one of the horses Jon had so graciously given him to ride away, while the Lord Commander watched idly from his spot on the castle's deck. He didn't want the others to know that Sam's departure was physically tearing him up inside, and if he were to properly say goodbye, he didn't know what would happen.

Maia took a different approach. She hugged Gilly tightly as Sam held the baby in his hands. The blonde's squirmy arms forcefully wrapped themselves around Gilly, wishing she could never let go of one of the only people who first accepted her at Castle Black.

"I don't know what I'm going to do without you." Maia muffled into the girl's matted hair. "Who am I going to talk to?"

Gilly shook her head. "You have Jon and ... and Ed. Hobb, also."

"The lack of females in that list is noted," Maia muttered, leaning away.

The Wildling took her child back and began cradling him in her arms. She lifted one hand, caressing her friend's cheek. "You have to tell _him_ , Maia. Don't try to live out your days with him without discussing your true self."

Maia nodded as Sam guided Gilly over to their carriage, helping her onto it. The blonde found it hard to suck in her sniffles as snow glided on top of their heads. The gates opened and the pair slowly rode forward into the winter outside. Sam waved goodbye to Jon above.

Gilly took one last look at Maia. She raised her hand to wave, but Maia's vision of it was cut short as the gates closed.


	21. STALLING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia almost reveals her secret to Jon, before she remembers a crucial part to his upcoming future.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

#####  **__________________________**

**"IT'S** really not that bad, Maia."

The blonde sent a threatening glare in Jon's direction. She dipped an almost-clean rag in a soapy pail next to her. He lied ever so carefully on his mattress as she sat between his legs, rinsing the rag in her hands for the fourth time. Maia tried her best to not be distracted by the Lord Commander's lean physique while lifting the cloth to his forehead. Damp black locks stuck to his forehead as he watched her with curious eyes. Strands of blonde fell so carefully in front of her vision, and he found the way she was constantly blowing them out of the way to be funny. With the situation they were in right now, Jon imagined the way he could grasp her hips and take her, but yet, his vow lingered in the back of his mind.

"You literally have one of the worst scabs I've ever seen on your face." She scoffed, patting the area with water.

Jon chuckled softly. "It's not everyday you kill a White Walker."

Maia ignored his sly remark as she slowly picked off the large scab, immediately applying pressure onto the open wound.

"Ser Davos approached me today," he muttered as his partner glanced his way. "He returned to recruit aid for Stannis. Not only ten seconds later did Melisandre ride through our gates with news that Stannis and his army had been defeated."

She cocked her head to the side. "So does that mean –?"

"Stannis Baratheon is dead, apparently." He finished as Maia continued to pat his forehead. "Now we have one less army to help against the real fight in the North. He couldn't wait to charge for Winterfell."

Her face contorted. "I never liked him."

"Personality doesn't matter to me when we have a pack of Wights on our tail."

Maia remembered Derek's words of Stannis' death, frowning in result. "I had a feeling he was going to die."

Jon chuckled, casually leaning forward to press his lips on her own. She felt her hands slip from the rag on his forehead to his face, which she held firmly in her nimble hands. His mouth always had the defined taste of leftover dinner or ale, and that wasn't always so savory. Nonetheless, she enjoyed him in any setting.

He leaned away from her, licking his lips in a way that was laughable. "You have a feeling about everything. Why is that?"

Maia tapped her fingers on his arm. "It's kind of hard to explain."

Jon raised a brow. "Is this the moment when you tell me you're some sort of witch?"

She chortled, shaking her head. "No, no." She replied, remembering Gilly's words. Maybe this was _the_ moment. "I just ... How would you feel if I told you I wasn't ... from _here_?"

"I'm not from here either, Maia." He answered, moving his hands about. "I'm originally from Winterfell."

She shook her head again. "That's not what I mean."

Jon paused. His mind boggled with answers he would never get. "Maia."

The blonde didn't say anything, nor look at him.

"Maia."

"Why do you love me?" She spat, almost diverting from the topic at hand. Her eyes began to focus on the candle on his bedside table. "You know that I'm keeping more secrets than I should from you. We both realize that we barely know shit about each other. All I create is chaos, Jon – _fucking chaos_. And yet, we're both so oddly infatuated with each other that it seems almost unhealthy."

Jon quirked a brow. "You're stalling."

Maia groaned, running her hands over her face. "I don't know how to say all of this," she responded while rubbing at her forehead. "I guess ... sometimes I feel like I'm ... not from this world."

He stared at her for a long moment, contemplating her words, before beginning to laugh. He thought her practical confession was _funny_.

"Why are you laughing?" She scoffed.

Jon shrugged. "I don't know. You sounded comedic. I could use that around here."

Maia shook her head, standing from his lap and dropping her rag into the pail next to his bed. She couldn't possibly continue now – he thought her to be _joke_. "Forget I said anything."

"Wait, Maia –"

She held up a hand, using the other to open the door to his room. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

He sighed, muttering, "Goodnight, my love," just as she shut the door in his face.

**__________________________**

Maia closed her eyes, hoping for a better night's sleep for the day ahead. She was terribly wrong to assume that.

_"I need you to pay attention to me."_

_She stood in front of their shared flat screen TV, glaring at Derek as her arms out-stretched around the edges. Derek groaned loudly, pausing his favorite show, while a very important scene was about to play out. He looked at his soon-to-be wife with disappointed eyes._

_"Maia," he sighed, "it's Sunday. You know the TV gets my attention on Sundays."_

_She rolled her eyes. "Do you not love me anymore?"_

_"Don't play the fucking guilt card on me." He scoffed, pointing the remote in her direction._

_Maia placed her hands on her hips as she inched closer to her fiancé, a frown spread on her face. "I don't know if you've realized this, Derek, but we are on very busy schedules. The weekends are the most time we have together, and we haven't had sex in a month."_

_"What? Is sex the basis of our relationship now?"_

_Her mouth dropped. "I cannot believe those words just fell out of a_ guy's _mouth."_

_Derek leaned close to the blonde, kissing her delightfully on the lips to hold her for the time being. His episode was almost done anyways, so he just hoped she'd be in the mood afterwards. "Now," he said, tossing her light body to the side and grabbing the remote, "_ Game of Thrones _is almost over and things aren't looking so good for Jon Snow. If you love me, you'll let me finish."_

_"You're a bore." Maia seethed as she stood from the couch to walk over to their small kitchen. She looked over her shoulder, noticing Derek continue to watch his show while the familiar curly-haired bastard appeared on screen. "Maybe Jon Snow would want to fuck me more than you."_

_"Doubt it. He's into red-heads."_

_She narrowed her eyes in his direction, though he couldn't see it. She pulled out her favorite tub of coffee ice cream from the freezer and a spoon, beginning to stuff her face as the mood for sex wore off. Maybe all she needed was ice cream. Who needed a fiancé?_

_"NO!"_

_Maia swung her head to Derek, who was screaming the repeated word at their TV. She walked towards the couch and continued pushing spoonfuls of ice cream in her mouth. Jon Snow cowered to the ground on their television, suffering from multiple stab wounds. She watched as several members of his "brotherhood" (or whatever) shoved their knives into his own gut, even a little boy who she guessed was someone he trusted. They all muttered an identical phrase: "For the Watch."_

_"What the fuck is going –?"_

_Maia hit the back of Derek's head as she suddenly became interested. "Shut up!"_

_Jon Snow had fallen to the ground, a pool of blood surrounding him as the members dispersed. All his friends had turned on him, for an act Maia had no clue of. She knew she felt bad though, because from the bits and pieces Derek had told her about this Jon Snow character, he seemed like a good guy._

_But there was one important saying that she remembered leaving Derek's mouth, and that was in the game of thrones, you either win or you die._

**__________________________**

Maia woke up gasping for breath. She clutched her chest with small hands, looking around at the cricketing wood of her room in Castle Black. It's _real_. It was all real, but Maia still waited for someone to come out of a door and say that it was all a prank. Though here she was, sitting on her bed in Castle Black, remembering a life she would've had before her destiny changed forever.

Maybe she was meant to have fallen into his world. It wasn't all essentially real, but there had to be reason for her to be here. And after that haunting realization of where she was at in the game of thrones, she finally realized her purpose.

She had to save Jon Snow.


	22. DEATH TO LOVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Watch turn on their Lord Commander.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

#####  **__________________________**

**DESPITE** Maia's lingering anger, she found it to be her duty to make sure the Watch's Lord Commander was fed. He had missed dinner, leaving her to realize he was cooped up in his office, as usual. Maia's recurring dream played in her head like a track on repeat as she carried his hot bowl of stew in her hands. She still had no idea when the problem of his death was going to pop up; she had no clue if she was right to assume so.

She was lucky enough to not be outside today, for thunder wrecked havoc in the sky. Her fingertips burned against the surface of his dinner, which must have been her reason for sprinting into his workspace and plopping the bowl on his desk. Jon looked up from the piece of parchment in his hands, muttering, "You didn't need to do that."

"But I did anyways," she smirked, pushing the bowl forward. "Eat."

He rubbed at his eyes. "I'm not hungry."

Maia released a huff as she sat on the desk, hugging her cloak near to her chest. "Why are you here? Figured you'd be tending to your wounds for another night."

Jon looked up, a small grin present. "Are you offering to help with that?"

"No."

They both sat there, staring at each other as if their eyes had sunk into their skulls. Before they could continue, the two began laughing uncontrollably. Jon had laced his fingers with her own, their chuckles rolling in sync with one another. Maia held one hand to her chest, giggling, "I didn't mean to dampen your mood last night." She sighed, her laughter dying down. "I guess I was more worried than usual."

"You're the only one who can make me laugh in this time of crisis." He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips before picking the papers on his desk again. He breathed out and glanced her way. "What was that about last night?"

Maia held her hands together. Her nerves were suddenly sky-rocketing. This was _the_ moment. She had to tell him now. What better time than the present? She was unsure of how much time she had left with Jon, and she was going to try her hardest to stop that from happening.

"You see –"

The door immediately swung open, and the couple moved farther away from each other as their eyes rested on Olly. "Lady Sanders," he cleared his throat before looking at Jon. "Lord Commander, it's one of the Wildlings you brought back. Says he knows your Uncle Benjen."

The words began to click in her head. Maia remembered this moment; she remembered this scene. She remembered Derek screaming at their television to " _not trust Olly_."

She found herself repeating the words that came out of Olly's mouth: "Says he's still alive."

"Are you sure he's talking about Benjen?" Jon asked, standing from his seat.

Maia's eyes widened as she watched the sight unfold before her. No, this can't be the time. She hadn't told him yet. This _couldn't_ be –

"Says he was First Ranger," Olly answered. "Says he knows where to find him."

Olly ran out of the office, gesturing from Jon to follow. The Lord Commander bolted from his spot, but was suddenly stopped when he found Maia's hand wrapped around his arm. "What are you doing?"

Her facial expression was pure terror as her hands shook violently. Something was wrong; _she_ felt wrong. Her grip tightened around his bicep. "Jon," she paused, "don't go."

"Maia, I have –"

She shook her head. "No, no. Something bad is going to happen. You can't –"

" _Seven hells_!" Jon exclaimed, ripping his arm away. "You don't actually _know_ that!"

"I _do_!" Maia brought him closer yet again, tears welling up in her eyes as she closed her hands around his cheeks. "Jon, I – I'm not from _here_. What I was trying to tell you last night – it was all true. I'm not from this world. I know what's going to happen to you. I know _everything_ –"

Jon's eyes seemed to bug out of his skull. He looked at her as if she was a ghost. No words fell from his mouth.

"I – I never told you because I was scared. I didn't know what you'd say. This is why I have those feelings on what I think is going to happen. It's because I _know_."

She released a breath. The weight suddenly lifted from her chest. She had finally said it. A bolt of lightening ripped in the sky outside.

He removed her hands while he began to slowly retrace his steps. "Maia, you're scaring me." He shook his head as he moved towards the door.

" _No_!" She cried, hand clasped around his shoulder. "You're going to _die_ , Jon."

He paused for a moment, turning his back to her. Maybe she had officially gone crazy, but there was something in the way that she sobbed that told him her words were true. She believed in them, but he wasn't sure if he believed in her.

Jon looked over his shoulder, muttering, "It's my uncle. You have no idea how much this could mean to me."

Before she could release another shriek, he was sprinting out of his office. She followed his footsteps towards the outside of Castle Black, where Olly was waiting to guide him. They trekked down the snowy stairs, allowing Maia to wait from the deck as Jon bellowed, " _Stay there_." Thunder cracked above as Olly glanced at her, sending a glare.

A scream lodged itself in her throat. Her chest heaved. She felt as if she were being pelted with a million stones.

Alliser Thorne was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for Jon. "He says he saw your uncle at Hardhome on the last full moon."

"Could be lying," Jon muttered.

"Could be," Ser Alliser agreed. "One way to find out."

Maia watched Jon flex his hands in his gloves from above, seeing them near a group of Watch brothers. "Where is he?" The Lord Commander questioned.

"Over there," Alliser replied towards the group of brothers in a circle.

Jon shoved his way through the gang that huddled together. He anxiously wanted to meet said man. He wanted to know anything about his Uncle Benjen's whereabouts. Maia didn't understand what this information could mean for him or for Benjen.

But as he reached the middle of the brothers' circle, he only noticed one thing: mounted to a post under the dense firelight, was a piece of wood with the word, _TRAITOR_ , carved into it.

Maia creaked down the stairs, tears falling down her cheeks. She could just see the post-marked word from her spot, and she remembered what came next. Why didn't he believe her? The moment finally came, and he didn't believe. She was to save him, but he didn't want that.

Jon cocked his head to the side, slowly turning to face his members.

Alliser was already behind him, and as soon as he spun around, he stabbed his Lord Commander in the gut. "For the Watch."

The First Ranger pulled the knife out, splattering blood to the ground as Jon gasped for breath. Lightening mixed with the snow falling. Maia's sobs were uncontrollable as she resisted the urge to hunch herself over. She couldn't help Jon now. She couldn't do anything and it actually killed her inside.

Another man came. And another. And another. And yet another. All plunged their filthy blades into Jon's stomach, repeating, "For the Watch." The look on their faces were disgusting. Their actions were disgusting. They were all _disgusting_.

Jon panted as his knees gave out, sending them to the snowy ground. He gasped for air and his eyes connected to Olly above, who was slowly inching towards him. The knife in his hand quivered as Jon stared at him, pleading for a release of torture.

Maia lifted a hand to her mouth, her heavy breathing matching Jon's. Derek's holler from the past echoed in her mind.

Jon tried backing away on his knees. Tears stung at his eyes as he watched the child. "Olly," he croaked.

Olly's face contorted into anger, a flashing of what the Wildlings did to his village began to play in his eyes. He hated Jon. He completely, utterly, _hated_ him. And as he saw his Lord Commander start to cry, he rammed his blade into his chest. "For the Watch," he repeated.

Jon's lip trembled as his eyes searched for Maia, spotting her walk closer to the scene. He carefully shook his head, losing breath from his body. She had been _right_. He watched her sadness overcome her, but even with shaky vision, he knew she needed to go. They would surely kill her too.

Maia didn't know what to think or do, so she kept her eyes locked with a dying Jon on his knees. She was ready to run over, but then she watched his lips form the word: " _Run_."

Suddenly, she saw all the brothers' eyes on her as Jon slipped to the ground. They all raised their weapons, faces angered with her presence. They were all going to murder her.

Maia took off at the speed of light, hearing Alliser command, "Follow her!" She headed for the gates, realizing now the only reason she refused to break through them the first time was her being so weak from the cold. Maia found herself grow stronger being at Castle Black, and she quickly struck her whole body against the frail wood of the gates. " _Don't_ open the gates!"

The brothers working on the peak of the Wall heard differently, and without a second thought, they began to roll open the entrance. Maia looked over her shoulder, realizing an unknown Watch brother was already speeding her way. She had to think fast; he was going to reach her in little under three seconds. As he sped close with his weapon raised, Maia took an intake of breath and rammed her fist into his face. He was sent back a foot away, lying on the ground in a daze.

Maia saw their torches just a few feet away, causing her to smash herself into the gates yet again. She shoved her fists into the dull entrance, and tried not to puke at the sight of blood covering her knuckles. The wood finally cracked as the gates fully opened, to her confusion, and she quickly slid herself out. She found herself where she started: outside of the Wall. Maia hadn't seen a real scenery in so long, but she couldn't wait. She knew exactly where she needed to go, and she hoped her assumptions were correct.

The sky crackled, a storm brewing ahead as the snow mixed within it. Maia trudged through the deep snow, hearing the Watch brothers scream for their friends to open the gates more so they could find her. She had the lead now, and she couldn't stop.

Maia breathed heavily as she neared her destination, chest burning with exhaustion. Her lungs hurt more than anyone could imagine. Thunder riddled the clouds and lightening shook the ground. She could see the familiar white-barked tree from a mile away, the leaves following the ground and coloring the snow red. Maia looked behind her, noticing the Watch had finally dispersed from the gates. They saw her, and began marching through the snow to reach her at the weirwood tree.

" _Kill her_!" Ser Alliser ordered as they neared.

Maia shrieked while another bolt of lightening hit the base of the weirwood tree, and as her arms wrapped around the trunk, the band of brothers reached her spot. They raised their weapons, but before they could stab her in the back, Alliser Thorne watched Maia Sanders disappear into thin air.


	23. FREEDOM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia and Derek finally see each other after months of being apart.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

#####  **__________________________**

**MAIA'S** hands tangled into the dry grass. Her eyes remained closed, but she still took in handfuls of weeds, pulling it apart from the ground to feel the dirt crust under her nails. She opened her orbs to the sight of red leaves hanging over her, sunlight trying to peak through the branches and blinding her.

The blonde slowly sat up as she began to look around her. She saw _grass_. Maia hadn't seen grass in _too long_. She breathed in quickly, hands finding the trunk of the white-barked tree next to her. There was only one explanation to this scenery: she had returned to Washington.

Maia took a while to finally stand, because her legs wobbled and her knees shook with tremors. She wasn't sure how long she'd been lying there, but she did take note of how her heart seemed to bleed as her mind replayed the scene of Jon's death that happened right before her eyes. She had been gone for _months_ , and suddenly fate decided she should return when she was being chased for kill? Things weren't adding up in her brain.

She stumbled down the small hill of grass, pushing the caution tape placed around the tree out of her way, until she reached the dirt walking path. Nausea settled in her stomach as she spotted a police car sat just a few feet away. There had to have been an investigation for her, but she wouldn't have thought for it to go on for so long.

Derek must have been – oh, _God_. Derek was already gone. He probably canceled the wedding. He probably thought her to be _dead_.

The officer leaning against his car looked off into the horizon, immediately identifying the dirty blonde walking up to his vehicle. She was wearing an odd outfit of sorts, but he was no fool. He had seen too many photos of her to not recognize her. He sprinted to Maia, quickly hooking her arms around his shoulders as she asked who he was, to which he responded, "My name is Officer Conway, ma'am. We've been looking for you for a long time."

Maia held her head as the officer slid her into his cruiser. "I was ... away. Far, far away."

Officer Conway didn't have time to ask her questions, or how she suddenly appeared at the place of her vanishing out of the blue. Her choice of clothing depicted her story, for she wore a torn wool skirt with a tight bodice and hand-made sweater covering her shoulders. He unclipped his radio from his belt, muttering into it, "I found her, sheriff. I found Maia Sanders."

**__________________________**

He had booked a flight for that night as soon as he got the call from the Washington police department. Derek rushed for his plane, and it only took overnight to finally arrive in Washington once again. Being in the state of his fiancé's supposed disappearance made him feel odd, especially when he had been sad for so long, thinking that she had been murdered.

He almost hadn't believed the officer when he called him. It had been months since he'd last seen her, so it was normal for him to finally come to terms with her vanishing and to seek the help of a professional. But when he got the call, he knew that even if the woman they'd found wasn't Maia, he needed to see for himself.

Derek immediately got a taxi to the hospital, wasting no time to visit the hotel he somehow booked the night prior. He rushed into the medicated ward and spoke to the secretary that he was there to see Maia Sanders. He took a seat in the waiting area, hands shaking with moderate excitement, and before he knew it, a doctor from inside the glass doors approached him. "Derek Swanson?" He asked, putting a hand on the man's shoulder.

Derek jolted as he nodded. The doctor, which had a name tag that read Dr. Jenkin, gestured for him to stand and walk with him.

Dr. Jenkin led him through the hallways of the Washington hospital. "Maia was found sometime in the early hours of yesterday morning," he proposed. "She was right where she disappeared, oddly enough. The officer at the time didn't know what to think."

"But she's okay, right?" Derek asked.

The doctor halted their movements, stopping right outside a patient's room. "That is where the problem lies, Mr. Swanson. Your fiancé seems to think she was in some other world during the months she was gone. She begged us not to let you know, but she's convinced she was transported into that fantasy HBO TV show."

Derek took a step back. "She thinks she was in _Game of Thrones_?"

"She won't give us any other information besides that. We believe she's suffering from shock." Dr. Jenkin sighed. "I think you should talk with her. See if you can get more out of her."

Derek nodded before slowly making his way to his fiancé's room. He watched the way she began to play with the IV punctured in her arm. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She was the same on the outside, leaving him absolutely breathless, but on the inside, she was so much different.

When Maia's eyes found his, she felt a wave of fear bubble up in her stomach. Not from the sight of him, but from the guilt buried deep within her. She had turned her back on him. She had fallen in love with another man in a different time. She couldn't marry him anymore knowing that. In fact, Maia was sure she didn't want to marry him anymore.

All she wanted right now was to be holding Jon's hand.

Derek cleared his throat, sliding a chair over to her cot. "Hey, Mai." He greeted, reaching out for her hand. She didn't move it. "How are you feeling?"

Maia spoke no words. She stared at him with wide eyes.

"The doctor informed me on what's been happening. I've missed you more than you know." He ogled her, realizing that she was fearful to be near him. Maia – the girl he'd been with since college – was _scared_ of him. "What's going on with you?"

She looked down at her hands before whispering, "You're going to hate me."

"Maia, I could never hate you. I just got you back after so long." He stood to caress her cheeks and place a kiss on her forehead. "I've missed you so much. Don't you know that?

She didn't want to cry, but there Maia was, feeling a tear slip down her face to dangle below her chin. "I don't ..." She took an intake of air. "I don't love you anymore."

Derek gaped. He moved his chair away, allowing him a moment to think as he gawked at the sight of his teary-eyed fiancé.

"I don't want to marry you. I can't do it." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I –"

"Is this because of your fucking psychotic episode? You really think that while you were away from me, you were in goddamn Game of Thrones?" He scoffed at her sobbing. He only saw it as an act of pity now. "Did you – what – fall in love with Jon _fucking_ Snow? Is that what you've come up with in your mind?"

Maia looked out her window, watching a dark, black crow perch itself on the flowered tree beside her. The bird glowered at her as she mumbled, "I didn't mean to fall in love with him, Derek."

"You've got to be fucking _kidding_ me? You've _actually_ managed to go fully insane, instead of just owning up to the reality that you were probably fucking kidnapped! You created this whole scenario to cope instead of telling the truth!" Derek sighed. "This is not a healthy way of coping. I thought we _trusted_ each other, Maia."

Just the look she was giving him was breaking his heart. He had always been a hot-head when things like this happened. Derek was livid, and he knew that if he continued to stare at her in the hospital bed, he would apologize for his words. Though he didn't want to, because he didn't regret them one bit, not when she was giving up on him.

"I always knew you were fucking _crazy_. You went _ballistic_ during stupid wedding plans!" Derek let out a gruff huff, something that sent a chill down Maia's spine. "You know, I'm happy I canceled our wedding while you were away in _fucking Westeros_ , apparently. Now I can finally come to terms with this."

Maia rubbed at her eyes and laced her hands together. "I _never_ meant to hurt you, Derek."

"You did a pretty good job of doing it anyways."

She watched him walk out of the room, almost in slow motion. He practically ran into her specified doctor and grabbed him by the collar so he could mutter, "She's crazy. Send her to a therapist, for all I care." Maia sucked in another sob as she watched Derek not only stride away from the hospital, but from her life.

And as the doctor explained the new treatment she'd have to go under, the former pair finally let out a breath of relief. They were _free_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, it was kinda obvious that Derek and Maia were never going to get back together. This seemed incredibly dramatic, but I never really got into a lot of backstory for Derek because I was afraid people wouldn't want to hear about him. From scenes that you did read of him on his own, you can see he went through some pretty low lows, and this in moment, you saw he went through a pretty high anger, and he also has his high happy days. So, I'll let you decide why he exactly acts like this, and that's the reason why this chapter was a little bit too dramatic.
> 
> -Victoria


	24. REBIRTH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia researches how she was able to travel to Westeros and plans her return. Melisandre tries to revive Jon.

#### BOOK I: JORRĀELAGON

##### CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

#####  **__________________________**

**AFTER** four long, tiring months, Maia finally had her last appointment with her psychiatrist. She had lied her way through it, making the professional trust that she was completely normal, that she didn't believe the things she wasn't supposed to.

Her psychiatrist, Dr. Paige, deemed her healthy, and let Maia be on her way with her life. She had somehow convinced Dr. Paige that everyone was right: her version of coping from her kidnapping (of which she could barely remember) was believing she had been transported to her former fiancé's favorite show. But little did the doctor know that in her spare time, Maia wasn't busy looking up listings for a new job, but researching the art of time travel – specifically, traveling within alternate universes.

Maybe Derek was right. Maybe she was crazy. Maybe she had gone absolutely bonkers, but she was most definitely good at acting like she was better.

Sometimes she glanced at Derek's old Facebook page to see what he was up to, though she could only see his most recent profile picture since he defriended her. He had moved out of her apartment, got a new girlfriend now, and he was happier. Maia had no doubt that the engagement ring that used to rest on her finger would pass on to Derek's new girl. This was better for both of them.

Maia's heart yearned for Jon again. During the early stages of coping, Maia found herself banging on the glass of her TV as Jon Snow appeared on repeats, screaming at him if he could hear her. He couldn't, and Maia knew that Derek's works were right.

She was _completely_ fucked up.

But Maia was certain that everything she experienced was real, and through one way or another, she was going to return to Jon's universe.

**__________________________**

The investigation Maia had conducted reigned true, even though she wasn't entirely sure of it herself.

Alternate universes were as real as your favorite brand of toothpaste bought from a local supermarket. Imagine a world where your favorite television characters were real, and to them, your world consisted of the characters. There were universes just like that, or others with different clothing choices or times. It was all real, but little to none believed in such a theory.

Maia may not have traveled within the show of _Game of Thrones_ itself, but possibly wormed her way into a universe where the world of Westeros was real. Thus, this initiated her concept that she could possibly journey between different universes, as long as she had a source of passage. She didn't understand how _she_ – Maia Sanders, the seemingly normal girl – was allowed to do this. She had been living her life as an ordinary being, not knowing she had a greater purpose with her new talent.

In this said universe, Melisandre was currently gliding her hands through a dead Jon Snow's course hair. Ser Davos, Ed, and Tormund stood behind, watching as she extracted materials to wash the wounds and blood that coated the corpse before them. Her dark red hair was unusually frizzy, for she had been dreading this moment since the Onion Knight had approached her. She had thought so many things, and now she came to the realization that she was nothing. Davos assured that they at least had to try, if not for them, but for the destiny of the Watch.

She had trimmed his facial hair before taking a blade to cut his long curls and threw them into the cup of flames to her right. She began mumbling words of her God, taking note of how each stab thrust into Jon's gut was unique in it's own way. The three men looked around at each other as Melisandre continued her words of prayer, drowning Jon's hair with water from a steel pitcher. She ran her fingers through the locks and moved in front of his chest one again.

Bags hung heavy over her eyes. Doubt plagued her mind, but the Red Woman took a long moment to believe that her Lord would guide her – just this _one_ moment. She rubbed her hands together before laying them on top of Jon's torso.

" _Hen sendruro oños. Hen ñuqir perzys. Hen morghot glaeson._ " She retracted her words from the Red God, looking at the men that surrounded her with tired eyes. She cleared her throat before continuing. " _Hen sendruro oños. Hen ñuqir perzys. Hen morghot glaeson._ "

Melisandre opened her eyes to look at Jon's dying corpse. He didn't move, but really, the witch didn't know what she was to be expecting. She breathed in, repeating quicker and firmer, " _Hen sendruro oños. Hen ñuqir perzys. Hen morghot glaeson._ "

She glanced again. Nothing. " _Hen sendruro oños. Hen ñuqir perzys. Hen morghot glaeson._ " Maybe she only had to whisper. " _Hen sendruro oños. Hen ñuqir perzys. Hen morghot glaeson._ "

Ser Davos's eyes met Tormund's as Melisandre slowly lifted her hands off the corpse. She couldn't do it. She had no power. Her God didn't _believe_ in her.

Her orbs bore into Davos', and he immediately saw the look of failure in them. The woman, who was usually so proud, was disappointed in herself. Tormund shook his head and left the room that had been so heavily guarded from Jon's traitors before.

The Red Woman leaned over Jon's body in agony. The Lord of Light helped those who were promised, and though she had also believed Stannis was the Azor Ahai, the death of Jon Snow rocked her to truly see the reality of what was in front of her. The Prince Who Was Promised had to be as real as Lady Sanders disappearing into apparent "thin air" after Jon was murdered, but she wouldn't let anyone know this information. Magic and power existed, she just didn't have enough of it.

She shook her head before passing through the open door with Ed. The flames flickered on Davos' aged face as he approached Jon's carcass, tilting his head. He let out a sigh as he took one last look at his former Commander, and walked out of the rickety cabin.

Ghost had been sleeping soundly next to Jon's body, enjoying the warmth of the fire, and oddly sat up when the others left. His glowing crimson eyes looked at his owner, who lay on an old table above him.

And as the direwolf started pawing at the floor, Jon Snow's eyes flashed open. He took his first breath. Then another. And another. He began gasping, searching for air that he thought he couldn't have. He wasn't looking through darkness anymore. He was seeing color. This _couldn't_ be happening. He took the air in his lungs like he had reached paradise.

While his eyes adjusted to the real scenery around him, Jon's conscious only repeated one name: _Maia Sanders_.

#### END OF BOOK I


	25. THE DEEP END

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia revels in the aftermath of her supposed "disappearance." Jon's killers receive their punishment. Prophecy, fate, and titles come into play in Book II ...

   


#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

#####  **__________________________**

**"I** can't believe you actually went off the deep end." Caroline mused. "I always thought you were the definition of perfect: tall, smart, blonde."

Maia swirled around the the liquid in her shot glass, sending her friend a glare. Alcohol didn't exactly mix with the medication her doctor prescribed, but it wasn't like she took it anyways. The bar stool she sat on creaked and hurt her, as the old eighties tunes blasted through Caroline's favorite bar.

The blonde was grateful for things she now had, she realized. She enjoyed having internet again, and television – especially, Netflix. She loved being able to shower everyday and the basic necessities that the modern age brought. She could travel using a car, rather than a horse. Her world had everything, except the one thing she needed.

It had been so long since she'd been with _him_ , but if she'd learned anything from her research, it was that time moved faster where she was originally. She guessed the other universe had only spent a week, maybe two, without her.

"So," Caroline continued, downing the last of her shot, "have you been feeling any better?"

Maia turned with a confused expression. "I've told you before, Caroline: I'm fine."

"Yeah, but the problem is that you say that and then you completely disappear from me for more than six months."

Maia rolled her eyes.

"Have you talked with your family yet about the situation?"

The blonde shrugged. " _My family_ hasn't called _me_ since I left for college, so no."

Caroline sighed. "What happened to you? You used to be so much fun." She flagged down the bartender. "Can I get a Corona?"

Maia didn't want to answer. While she did agree with Caroline that she had changed, she wouldn't ever admit it.

"Is it ... Derek?" Caroline whispered. "Do you, like, miss him or something?"

Maia shook her head. "I'm happy for him. He's better; I'm better now. I heard him and his girlfriend are doing well."

"Just thought you'd be more down about it. It's almost like you weren't together for five years and engaged."

Maia's jaw set. Had she never noticed how annoying Caroline was before? She had this agonizing tone about her, like she was always judging someone.

"Are you trying to make me feel bad about myself?"

Her friend's eyes met her own. She gave her a false pout. "I'm not trying anything. But c'mon, Maia. How can you _not_ be upset? Did you _really_ think you were on a romantic adventure with that bastard from an HBO show for months?"

Maia's fist reigned down on the bar table, causing a shake to occur. Caroline's body went rigid.

" _No_ ," the blonde seethed, hands trembling as anger raged through her. "You don't _get it_ , Caroline. I know I should _fucking_ crazy. But you don't know what I know, and you never will."

Caroline released a huff. "Maia, I've coped with things in the past too. I didn't –"

"Forget it," she spat, throwing down money for her shot and slinging her purse around her shoulder. "Thanks for not being a friend."

**__________________________**

Jon felt different. He wasn't sure if it was from the resurrection or not having someone by his side as he sat by the fire, but he didn't feel whole.

Somehow, he found a part of his soul lost when he'd woken up. Flashes of the afterlife repeated when he went to sleep, which were usually just images of never-ending darkness. Tormund told him that everyone thought him to be some kind of god, but what kind of god was scared of his own mind? His hands were always shaking now, wishing from another pair to engulf them in their warmth. Jon missed the familiar sight of beautiful, chocolate eyes that matched his own.

Nobody would ever understand what it was like to die. To feel your own sworn brothers turn against you for doing what was right. To know that one of your lovers had yet again slipped away from your grasp. It was a terrible feeling, turning Jon's stomach in knots.

Surprisingly, he hadn't flinched when Ed knocked on his quarters. He had been expecting his beckoned call. His friend opened the door, spotting Jon watching the flames in his hearth swarm together. Ed cleared his throat, "It's time."

Jon stood, throwing his Night's Watch uniform on the table that sat beside him. His new outfit felt snug, but he was grateful to finally be rid of the clothes that still had rips in the leather from when blades pierced his skin. He wasn't used to the shortness of his locks now, for he couldn't run his fingers through it when he was stressed.

He moved outside, feeling the familiar touch of snowflakes coat his head. The Wildling army made a path for Jon, who walked through with his head held down. Each step he took up the stairs – of which he cut off Ser Janos' head – was loud as Ed followed suit. Jon knew who were hanging by a thick rope in front of him, though he did not look up.

Finally, Jon peered at the four men who conspired against him, who left him to swim in the darkness of death, who – most likely – killed the storm of a girl he fell in love with. Ser Bowen and Othell were squirming in their places, while Alliser and Olly seemed lifeless.

"If you have any last words, now is the time." He spoke clearly, but not exactly defiantly.

Bowen's teeth chattered from the cold. "You shouldn't be alive. It's not right."

Jon's dark eyes met his former partner. "Neither was killing me."

"My mother's still living at White Harbor," Ser Othell pleaded. "Could you write? Tell her I died fighting the Wildlings."

Jon took a step forward, standing in front of Alliser Thorne, the man that wanted to crush everything he had in his life. He held no remorse. "I had a choice, Lord Commander." Alliser said, his tone sarcastic. "Betray you, or betray the Night's Watch. You brought an army of Wildlings into our lands – an army of murderers and raiders. If I had to do it all over, knowing where I'd end up, I'd pray I'd make the right choice again."

"I'm sure you would, Ser Alliser."

"I fought," the traitor sighed, "I lost. Now I rest. But you, Lord Snow – you'll be fighting their battles forever." His tone softened as he whispered, "I killed _her_. I always knew you two were involved with one another, because you have always been _weak_ towards pretty girls. I shoved my sword right through her back. She screamed for you, and now I know this is my punishment. An eye for an eye. A storm for a storm."

Jon grit his teeth and watched Alliser's head move upward as he stepped in front of Olly. The young boy – who's eyes once held such kindness, were now staring down at him menacingly. He said nothing, his expression nothing but a frown.

The raven-haired man nodded, realizing he had heard everything he needed to. He walked towards the end of the rope that would so gracefully cause these brothers untimely deaths. Jon unsheathed his sword, looking down at the blade with pure horror. Was he really going to kill these men he's was sworn with, who once fought beside him? He could feel Olly staring daggers into his back.

If there was anything he'd learned from his father, it was that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.

The crowd waited anxiously, almost believing that Jon wouldn't do it. But throughout all of the good times, Jon knew that these were also the males that betrayed him, and thus, his blade cut the rope.

The barrels were kicked out from under them as the the prisoners' ropes were tightened around their necks. Four men struggled for air, clutching their jugulars as Jon watched them with narrowed eyes. Their faces turned blue and their legs dangled until they finally stopped searching for a breath.

All their eyes were glazed over, but Jon couldn't stop staring at Olly. His orbs blood-shot, his skin a mix of purple and blue. Jon's face contorted into anger, remembering what he did to his life, while he put Longclaw back in his sheath.

"We should burn the bodies." Ed murmured as Jon strode over to him.

"You should," Jon countered, removing his cloak and putting it in Ed's arms.

His friend furrowed his brow. "What do you want me to do with this?"

"Wear it. Burn it. Whatever you want." He muttered. "You have Castle Black."

Ed's eyes went wide as Jon walked away, shoving his way through the crowd that stared at him in shock. It was time; he had nothing and no one left to live for. He needed to find that out, and this allowed him to utter the words, "My Watch has ended."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the beginning of Book II, which will revolve around Season 6! Things are going to get amped lol. Just so we're clear, "ivīlībagon" means "to fight for" in High Valyrian.


	26. SOLICE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia finds answers for what she should do next, and soon visits a familiar spot.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

#####  **__________________________**

**IF** there was anything Maia needed, it was answers.

She wasn't getting any jobs she applied for; she was withering away in her apartment, and honestly, she was missing the comfort of someone with her. She didn't have the money for rent or electricity, and the best food she could afford at the moment was Panera Bread. Maia needed to know if this was to truly be her life, or was she actually meant for another universe. She could only find this out from one person.

Maia didn't think she'd ever return to the psychic her and Caroline visited so long ago, but she also never thought she could travel to alternate universes. Things work in mysterious ways sometimes.

She saw the flickering _OPEN_ sign shine in the dark shade of the busy street. Maia slowly ascended the brick stairs to knock on Edna's door, knowing fully well the old woman could see her through her large window in the front. Maia waited for a long moment before Edna finally cracked open the door the tiniest bit, grumbling, "I remember you. You didn't pay."

Maia was about to let out a word, but then the door was slammed in her face. With a groan, she began pounding on the wood. "Please, I need your help!" She exclaimed, her hands sore from slapping themselves against a hard surface. "You're the only one who can give me answers!"

The door opened again, ever so slightly. "How so?"

**__________________________**

Maia spoke to her about everything. From her travels to her research to her purposes. The blonde was so sure she would never talk to this crazed psychic again, but found that speaking the truth in full helped her feel relief. She needed someone to understand, and that person needed to be someone as eccentric as Edna.

Once she was finished, Maia took a long minute to stare at her hands. She was happy to have everything out, to finally have someone who would listen. She carefully looked up at the frail woman, seeing her eyes blaze with a feeling she'd never seen before.

Edna placed her hand on top of the blonde's. "I understand."

Maia let out a large sigh. A hint of a smile formed on her face.

"Do you know what you must do now?"

She shook her head.

"My dear," Edna huffed, "you _must_ go back."

Maia furrowed her brow. "What?"

"Your purpose – no, your _destiny_ – is not with us." Edna explained, gesturing to her piles upon piles of vintage books she held. "I have read about your gift. You are able to do something scientists wished they could prove, for it is only a theory. Your ability is your key to know that you are meant in a different universe. Not with us. It may have taken twenty-two years of your life to realize this, but it's never too late to embrace destiny."

Maia sat back in the rickety chair. "But what about the repercussions? My family have rarely spoken to me since I moved away, but I don't think I can go through another 'kidnapping' without it looking suspicious."

"Do not think about that." The elder shook her head. "Think about _your_ future. Your gift can allow you to change the fate of people this world loves. You belong with them."

"What do I do now though?"

Edna leaned into the table. "From what I've read, to travel to specific universes already visited, the traveler must return to the exact spot or object that took them to the alternate. You have to go back to the tree you touched in Washington."

Maia nodded, her fingers already itching to buy a plane ticket that would soon be resting in her hands.

"So," the younger woman smirked, "do I still have to pay?"

**__________________________**

Just three days later, Maia stood in line to board a flight to Washington. She look down at the ticket in her fingertips, knowing that she was just another step away to being with the people she cared about. She just wished she wasn't returning at a difficult time.

She didn't mind that Jon was dead. She had her time of grieving, but her only purpose was to be with people in that time. Maybe she was destined to love someone else or die in that universe, but her only hope was to see at least Ser Davos or Ed again.

Maia took her seat in the back of the plane and ended up sleeping for most of the flight. She carried no suitcase, only a small backpack that was placed to and from her shoulders. She wouldn't need a large bag of luggage for the real travel should would endure.

She had made sure she was traveling to Washington for the right weather. Luckily, the day she'd land, there was to be a hefty storm in the middle of the state at exactly two PM. Maybe she was just excited, but Maia's hands shook at the image of the storm that would soon send her backwards.

After a handful number of hours, Maia had arrived in Washington. The familiar look of the airport was refreshing, and almost thrilling at the same time. She checked the time on her phone: one PM. She needed to move.

Maia tried her best to quickly haul a taxi to cart her to her desired location. Once one stopped for her, she threw herself in and gave her specific directions. He looked at her strangely at first, almost as if he knew her face from the news, but he said nothing of it.

She sat back in the seat with a sigh. She looked at her phone: one thirty PM. Clouds were casually getting darker overhead.

They had been driving for a half an hour before the taxi finally stopped. Maia had been drifting on and off between sleep, but was surprised when the car halted in front of the dirt road that was so familiar to her. The driver turned to her, asking, "Are you sure this is the spot, ma'am?"

Maia nodded aggressively as the driver calculated her price. It was two PM, and rain drops were already cascading down onto the roof of the taxi. Maia's bones seemed to bounce at the sound of thunder echoing throughout the sky. She quickly handed the man money, telling him to keep the change as she strapped her backpack on and headed out in the rain.

She saw the tree in the distance, and with a smile, she began walking in its direction. " _Ma'am_!" The driver called, getting out of his car with confused eyes. "Where are you going? Are you going to be alright?"

Maia turned back, pushing the unknown man off with a wave of her hand. "Just go!"

The driver scoffed, returning back to the inside of his car and shaking raindrops from his hair. She watched him quickly drive away and back onto the main street, leaving her on the soggy, dirt road.

Maia started to run. She ran as fast as her legs could take her, hoping the tree in front of her wasn't a mirage. Lightening cracked above her head as rain melted off the think coat of makeup she applied on her face. She was smiling as she ran, feeling free for once in her life. She had absolutely nothing holding her back.

Finally, she was in front of the spiritual tree, eyes glowing at the sight of it. The beautiful trunk of nature aged slightly, but it was healthier than ever. A flash of lightening hit a branch of the tree, allowing it to crack and fall to the right of her.

 _It's time_ , she told herself. Maia reached her two hands out to the trunk of the magnificent tree as another snap of lightening hit the base of the tree, and almost instantly, she was out.


	27. THE RETURN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia makes her return.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

#####  **__________________________**

**MAIA** woke up slumped against the heart tree. Little droplets of snowflakes cascaded onto her eyes, clouding her vision for a moment. Her head hurt tremendously, but she managed to sit up with the help of the weirwood in back of her.

She had returned. Everything she researched was true.

She couldn't help her giddiness as she began to laugh. She had done it; after four long months, enduring a therapist's wishes and medication – Maia had returned to Westeros. Somehow, some way, Edna was right. Her destiny remained in this world, though she hadn't known before.

Her backpack had somehow ripped on her travel there, but all the contents were fine. Despite the raging snow storm pushing her back, Maia started her short trek through the godswood to the Wall. She hoped – more likely, _prayed_ – that some of her allies still remained there, or she was a goner for sure.

The jog didn't take long, though she was walking slower than usual due to the overwhelming amount of wind being shoved in her direction. Maia was smarter this time around and wore a heavy winter jacket, and _god_ , was she thankful for it. As she neared the giant mound of ice, she noticed the usual men manning the gates from above. They saw her little, black presence soon, trying to peer farther to see who the figure truly was. When she was a few feet from the entrance, Maia noticed her hole she created still hadn't been repaired, and she then looked up.

From above, one of the men shouted, "WHO ARE YOU?" His hollers were almost drowned from the wind.

"It's Maia Sanders, Ser Arthur!" She tried her best to shriek over the howling weather. "I've returned!"

As soon as he squinted and noticed the thick, blonde hair, as light as snow itself, Arthur knew who this former stranger was. He rallied his brothers to open the gates and to tell Jon and Ed of the visitor. The brothers did as they were told, all the while shaking their heads that this was the second party that dropped in today.

Maia let out a breath of relief as the gates of the Wall opened. Her feet and hands shook violently from the cold, red dotted her nose, and her whole face felt like frost. But in a matter of seconds, she was there: in the courtyard of Castle Black once again.

Faces, new and familiar, stared at her in horror, and she didn't know if it was the shock of it all or that she appeared unruly. The first person she recognized was Melisandre, standing above on the deck of Castle Black and staring at her like she'd seen death itself. Then, there was Ser Davos, who quickly rushed to her aid and wrapped his cloak around her shoulders, his expression a mask of confusion at her outfit of choice. They were the only two she really needed to feel safe at the moment.

"Lady Sanders, I ... I can't believe it." He muttered, trying to rush her through the army of brothers and Wildlings in the courtyard. "Ser Alliser had everyone believe that he had killed you; that you had died in the storm."

Maia shook her head as the Onion Knight led her inside the castle. "It's a lot more complicated than that."

He nodded. "Ed and Jon will be happy to hear –"

Instantly, Maia whipped her head to Davos, laying a hand on his chest to stop him. " _What_ did you just say?"

"Things got a little complicated here too." He replied. The sound of footsteps running throughout the castle to reach them in the canteen was becoming more prominent.

The blonde slowly lofted a brow, already wanting to know more, but her movements were halted at the call of her name.

"Maia."

She felt as if time stopped as her eyes rested on Jon Snow's. It couldn't be; she'd watched him _die_. But there he was, standing right in front her, more alive than ever. She felt her heartbeat quicken at the mere sight of him. He was _real_ , and he was _there_.

Maia slapped a hand onto her mouth to drown out her sob as Jon sprinted towards her, quickly wrapping the woman his arms. She buried her head in the crook of his shoulder, and he for her, already noticing the familiar scent of berries never wavering. He missed her scent. He missed the warmth of _her_. Truly, he just missed her. He didn't believe she would be here, in his arms again, but his dreams were a reality as she held onto him tighter and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"You're alive," they repeated into each other's ears.

The two leaned away as Jon held onto her reddened cheeks. He wiped away the tears the stained her face, whispering, "I love you," before kissing her forehead with enough passion to fuel Maia's entire body.

Ed moved next to Ser Davos with a smirk. "Well, I truly didn't see that coming."

"You're an oblivious fool," Davos grunted before tapping his finger on Maia's shoulder. The woman turned, still embraced in Jon's hold. "I can see that Lord Snow will be taking you to your chambers, m'lady. I welcome you back to Castle Black."

"As do I," Ed added, walking away with the knight.

Jon ran his fingers through his lover's hair, a smile gracing his features. It felt so good to smile. "Shall I escort you?"

Maia giggled, remembering how much she missed the man's subtle wit. "Of course –"

"Jon?"

The pair turned to a young lady walking down the stairs of the common room. She was unknown to Maia, but she admired the beautiful head of red locks she had. It was almost as if the girl breathed fire. Her face alone was the most stunning Maia had ever seen. For a long moment, the two girls just stared at each other, until Maia remembered her ex muttering her name –

"Sansa," Jon cleared his throat. "I didn't hear you coming, but I must introduce you to someone."

The red-headed beauty nodded, sauntering towards Jon.

"Maia, this is Sansa. Sansa, Maia." He gestured between the two. "Sansa is my half-sister, who has just returned from a long journey with her party. Maia is my ..."

The blonde shrugged when he had trailed off.

"Your lady," Sansa finished as a grin made its way to her face. The young girl held out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Maia. You and my brother seem to have some history, so I guess we have a lot to catch up on."

Maia already felt welcomed by this girl, and she instantly knew they both would get along perfectly. Gilly may have been gone, but Sansa would slowly find a place to be her friend as well.

**__________________________**

"Your half-sister is too nice. You can't be related to her."

Jon laughed as he sat on the vintage floorboards of Maia's chambers. The fire in front of them was enough to keep them warm, but Jon still kept a cloak wrapped around their shoulders. And for once, the blonde was in Castle Black wearing her _own_ clothes, not a thrown-around corset and skirt. Maia held a cup of soup between her nimble fingers, feeling the sweet taste of onion soothe her frost bite. Hobb had been doing well without her.

"I haven't seen her since I left for the Wall. She disliked me back then, as did my step-mother."

Maia already knew the answer, but asked anyway, "What about your father and actual mother?"

"He treated me well, for a bastard." Jon's eyes casted downward. "I don't know my mother. He never told me."

Derek's voice, of which she had not thought of in a while, echoed through her head: _If you want my opinion, the whole "bastard" thing is untrue_ , he had said once. _It's been confirmed – but also unconfirmed – that he's the love child of Lyanna Stark, Ned's sister, and Rhaegar Targaryen, Daenery's brother._

She looked at Jon, noticing the way his face had seemed to fall at the mention of his past. Maia laid a gentle hand on his cheek as a reminder she was there, and his eyes slowly met her own. Her fingers traced the long scar on his forehead while she noticed his hair to be shorter. They shared a look of happiness and Maia turned back to the flames dancing in the hearth.

Jon let out a sigh. It was clear he wanted to talk about an important subject, but took a moment before muttering, "She wants me to take back Winterfell."

"Your home?" Maia replied in disbelief. "But –"

"I'm no longer a member of the Night's Watch. I've died and returned – that is my resignation." He stared at his hands. "I've been planning on where to leave, though since Sansa has come after escaping the wrath of her Bolton husband, where I go, she does. And now, you as well. But I'm tired of fighting, Maia."

The blonde released a huff. "I know you're looking for me to agree with you, but I can't. You're Jon Snow, the son of Eddard Stark, and I believe you're destined for greatness. You're not meant to live calmly by a ranch with a family."

"I don't want greatness, Maia. I wish I never left Winterfell." His eyes fell on her, watching as her orbs danced with the flames licking at the edges of the wood in front of them. She was truly mesmerizing.

Maia nodded, her face falling into a frown. She hesitated before asking, "What did you see?" He looked at her with a confused expression. "Is there ... an afterlife?"

Jon shook his head. His fingers brushed her own as he sighed. "No. All I saw was blackness. They shouldn't have brought me back. I feel different now, like a part of myself was lost when I came back."

"Don't say that."

"It's how I _feel_. Everyone keeps putting this big weight on back: that I have a destiny. What if I don't want that?" He kneeled closer to the fire, throwing a piece of wood in and watching it crackle. Maia couldn't think of a proper response as he went to sit near her again. "Enough about I, you have yet to explain where you have gone; what you have learned. I still remember what you told me before I was betrayed, and though it's still hard to wrap around my head, I'm willing to listen."

For the first time in her life, Maia had never felt more content to finally tell Jon Snow everything there was to know about herself.


	28. THE BOLTON TREATMENT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon receives a threatening letter from another Northern bastard.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

#####  **__________________________**

**MAIA** woke herself up as a loud snore escaped her lips. Thick furs and blankets covered her bare body in a cocoon, while one arm was laid outside and over Jon's shoulder blade. She fluttered her eyes open, immediately spotting her lover in the same state, his hair wild around his face.

After carefully reminding her that he was free of his Night's Watch duties, Jon used the heat of the fire to cox Maia into their first night together. They made love in front of the burning embers, nestled over a large blanket on the floor before moving to their mattress. He was never usually the one to make bold statements such as those, but with everything he had gone through thus far, Jon thought it was fair for him to have a night of happiness after retrieving his lady once again.

Maia reached out, gliding her hand across his face as he slept and pushed a few strands of hair from his eyes. She smiled as he continued to softly snore with his head practically buried in his pillow. She was so happy – _too happy_ – and she knew that in this universe, that wouldn't last very long.

Eventually, Jon's eyes met her own when he woke up. He rubbed at his lids and sat up, muttering, "Good morning, miss time traveler."

Maia chuckled. "Just because I basically told you everything last night, doesn't mean you can make fun of me. And I can't travel through time, anyways."

Her expression changed as he turned to her, and she was able to catch a glimpse of the scars that littered his torso as he grabbed for his trousers. Maia swallowed a lump in her throat, still in disbelief that this was Jon – _her Jon_ – and he was alive before her eyes.

"I believe I'm still not over that you were to be married when you were with me." He groaned, walking away from the bed and sliding on his breeches, as well as other various layers of clothing. "But, I guess I can forgive and forget."

"Truthfully, how are you so _okay_ with me?" Maia sat up, watching her lover dress. "I lied to you for so long. How do we still care for each other?"

Jon proceeded to move towards her again. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and planted a kiss on her lips. "The things we do for love," he whispered against her mouth. Maia reckoned she heard that before.

He then grinned slightly, before letting it falter and moving away to capture his clothes. "As for your old betrothed, I'm sure he would agree."

She sighed. "He hates me now."

"I wonder why."

The two looked at each other, suddenly falling into a fit of laughter. Moments like these were too good, so Maia expected things to get bad fast. The worst part of it all: she didn't have Derek anymore, thus she had no knowledge of what would be happening in this world.

**__________________________**

Sansa lifted the abnormal piece of chicken on her fork, examining the contents. The table was silent as everyone ate, but this dinner allowed Maia to meet Podrick Payne and Brienne of Tarth, Sansa's knight and squire, and she had never seen a woman so strong in her life.

Maia felt Jon's hand on her thigh as they ate, more as a comforting gesture, and she appreciated it much. She was currently swishing around the food on her plate, knowing full well she should've joined Hobb in preparing that night, but Jon did not have duties for the Watch anymore, and neither did she.

Brienne, like Sansa, was wondering what exactly was brought before her. She began looking all around the table before her eyes rested on Tormund Giantsbane, who was watching her while eating his dinner in the most inappropriate way possible. Brienne stared at him, horrified. Ed noticed the gesture and raised his brow.

"Sorry about the food." Ed apologized to Sansa. "It's not what we're known for. Maia always used to cook, but it's been utter shit since she left."

Maia chuckled softly.

"That's alright. There's more important things." Sansa shrugged.

The door to the common room opened, causing everyone to turn their heads. An unknown man of the Watch approached Jon, handing him a rolled up piece of parchment. "A letter for you, Lord Commander."

"I'm not Lord Commander anymore." He took a moment, but soon Jon's hand lifted from Maia's leg to reach for the letter. He nodded a thank you.

Maia peered over his shoulder to look at the paper as he twirled it around in his hands. The letter seemed thin with a thick, red sigil enclosing its contents. "What house is that mark for?"

"The Boltons," he whispered back, but Sansa heard and perked her head up.

Jon opened the letter slowly, clearing his throat as his eyes skimmed the cursive. He looked around at the table, noticing everyone was waiting for him to read it aloud. Maia's hand laid on his shoulder. "To the traitor and bastard, Jon Snow. You allowed thousands of Wildlings passed the Wall. You have betrayed your own kind; you've betrayed the North. Winterfell is mine, bastard. Come and see."

Sansa swallowed down a lump in her throat.

"Your brother, Rickon, is in my dungeon." Jon paused, glancing at his step-sister. "His dire wolf's skin is on my floor. Come and see. I want my bride back. Send her to me, bastard, and I will not trouble you or your Wildling lovers. Keep her from me, and I will ride North and slaughter every Wildling man, woman, and babe living under your protection. You will watch as I skin them living ..."

Sansa's grip on her fork tightened as she ordered, "Go on."

Jon closed the letter. "Just more of the same."

The red-head snatched it from his grasp. She smoothed it out between her fingers. "You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister. You will watch as I rape your supposed lady you've been keeping in Castle Black. You will watch as my dogs devour your wild, little brother. Then, I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see. Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."

Sansa laid the letter down on the table, and Maia instinctively grabbed Jon's hand beside her. _Ramsay Bolton_ , a name she knew had fallen from her ex's mouth with a string of curse words following it. How could this Ramsay possibly get to them; get to _her_? Was it possible for him to come to Castle Black and actually molest her and Sansa? From the look in the step-sister's eyes, she knew it was true.

The table was silent, until Jon repeated, "Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."

"His father's dead." Sansa concluded.

From various flashbacks in her mind, Maia remembered that at one point, the Bolton father had been Lord of Winterfell and if her assumptions were correct, he was expecting another child. She had seen some letters on Jon's desk months ago. Ramsay must've killed him and his new brother to secure his spot for power. "Do you suppose Ramsay killed him?" She questioned.

Sansa nodded. "And now he has Rickon."

"We don't know that," Jon replied.

"Yes, we do." The red-head grit her teeth.

Tormund leaned in. "How many men does he have in his army?"

Sansa took a moment to think. "I heard him say five thousand once when he was talking about Stannis' attack."

Jon turned to Tormund as Maia's grip on his hand tightened. "How many do you have?"

The Wildling shrugged. "That can march in a fight? Two thousand. The rest are children and old people."

Jon looked down at his and Maia's conjoined hands before glancing at his step-sister.

"You're the son of the last true Warden of the North," Sansa explained, her head held high. "Northern families are loyal. They'll fight for you, if you ask." She reached and grabbed his free hand. "A monster has taken our home and our brother. We have to go back to Winterfell and save them both."

Ed's eyes fell on his friend with keen interest, as did everyone else. Jon looked back at Maia, seeing the pure terror in her eyes as her brain repeated the contents of Ramsay's letter over and over again. Turning to Sansa, he finally nodded in agreement.


	29. THE INEVITABLE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Maia connect. Later on, a fight ensues between Maia and Jon.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

#####  **__________________________**

**SANSA** and Maia's fingers moved in sync as they threaded their needles into various fabrics. Sansa was currently making a new cloak for Jon, since he gave his old one to Ed. The red-head used a large, brown coat of fur on the top, one that would compliment Jon's features nicely, Maia noticed.

The two had gotten fairly close since they both arrived at Castle Black. Sansa was a perfect and gentle lady, but Maia was keen to notice her trauma underneath. Ramsay's letter was enough to explain things he did and will do to her. Sansa described these things anyways to Maia, already feeling an overwhelming trust for the blonde after realizing her history with Jon. She really felt that Maia understood, and was grateful for her patience.

Sansa held up the cloak for Maia to see, and the blonde marveled at the detail work she did. She said she learned it from her mother. "Would you like me to make you one as well, Maia? Jon has told me your wardrobe is quite ... different than most, so perhaps you would like a cloak to shield yourself from the weather."

Maia shook her head. For the first few days in the North, she had worn clothes brought in her pack. But after deciding she didn't need anymore attention drawn to herself, she accepted clothes given to her by Jon. "I don't want you overworked. I'm sure Jon is going to love his."

The sister smiled, continuing her work in her hands. Maia was trying to decide what thread color she wanted to use for the detail work on her new dress, when Sansa piped up again, "Can I ask you a question?"

She nodded.

"Do you love my brother?"

Maia looked up, noticing that Sansa was staring at her with interest. She set her materials down. "Yes, I am sure I do."

"I can't remember a time when anyone was in love with Jon." Sansa muttered. "Seeing you hold his hand yesterday ... it was something I'd never seen before. You make him happy, even in times of crisis. Thank you."

The blonde looked down at her hands, nodding slowly. The words of Ramsay's letter repeated in her subconscious and made a chill set within her. She was surprised when Sansa grabbed her hand a moment later.

"We are safe here, Maia. Jon will not let Ramsay touch you, or me." She released a soft smile. "Soon, we all will be in Winterfell. Jon and I must take back our home if we want to be safe forever. You must understand that."

Maia nodded, and she truly did understand. But there was something about the Boltons that genuinely scared her and she wasn't sure if she would ever feel safe again. As she was about to express her terror, a knock sounded at their door. Sansa turned, "Yes?"

"For you, m'lady." A Watch brother mumbled, handing her a letter.

Sansa's brow furrowed as she took the parchment into her own hands. The ink sigil binding it made her body tingle, causing Maia to grow confused while she opened it. Her eyes traveled across the words scratched onto the paper before looking up at the man who entered.

"How far is Mole's Town?"

**__________________________**

Maia threw her new dress on, doing a twirl for herself as she admired her handiwork. She used a beautiful, suede material in a maroon shade. A small amount of fur was applied to the collar of the dress as a hood was attached too. The fabrics were perfect to keep warm in the stormy weather outside.

Sansa had practically begged Maia to not tell Jon of her journey to Mole's Town that day. Though she had no idea what the visit meant to young Sansa, she had agreed anyway. The guilt of keeping a secret from Jon was slowly bubbling up in her chest.

She was in the process of throwing more wood into the fire in her room when Jon barged inside without knocking. Maia was startled by his sudden presence, causing her to stumble on the floor as she was bending for more wood. But Jon had not noticed at all, and continued to run his hands through his hair.

She stood up, trying to distract him by twirling in her dress once again. "Do you like it? I just finished this dress today!"

Jon was too busy whispering words to himself while holding his head in his hands. He sat on their shared mattress, rubbing at his temples.

"Are you alright?" She asked, walking towards him.

He shook his head. "No, Maia, I am not alright."

She furrowed her brow. "Well –"

"There's so much to do!" He stood from his spot as he began to pace in front of her. "Sansa wants to do so much. Ramsay will be closing in soon. I can't possibly do all this with the army I have. And I'm just ... I'm tired."

Maia spun him around to look at her. "Maybe there's some way I can help?" She watched Jon loft a brow. "I can join your army. I can help fight."

He laughed at her, shocked that she wasn't joining in with him. His chuckles lasted for one, long minute as Maia stared at him in disbelief. After his fit, Jon began to shake his head. "Are you _serious_? Absolutely not. Out of the question."

"But you just said you were worried about the army numbers you have," she reasoned as he walked away from her. "I can help you. I _want_ to help. I won't let that Ramsay Bolton steal your home."

"You're _not_ fighting, Maia!" Jon exclaimed. "You don't have any experience. I won't allow you to go out there and get yourself killed in battle. It's senseless."

Her hands tangled in her hair. "Why don't you _teach_ me then? Why don't you _teach_ me how to use a _fucking_ sword, Jon?"

"There's _no_ time!" Jon pointed a finger in her direction. "You're so stubborn, Gods sake. Trust my judgement for once. You haven't been here as long as I have."

Maia frowned at his words. "You won't let me help, but you're willing to let an army of people you barely know to die for you."

"I never said I wanted a fight in the first place."

She looked away, sitting down on her bed with a sigh. She understood Jon's point – it was rational – but she couldn't help but feel useless in this fight against the Boltons. She knew her purpose was for this universe, but what was her purpose in the wars to come? This was one of those moments that she could definitely use Derek's knowledge.

Jon was suddenly next to her, holding her face in his calloused hands. His eyes held nothing but worry. "I'm already terrified for your sake and my sister's, and the battle hasn't even begun." Maia's eyes fell at his words, but she nodded nonetheless. "He threatened to do so many things to _you_ – to my _family_ – and I'll be damned if I ever let him touch you. You're my life – my family – now, and you, Sansa, and Rickon are my only reasons for continuing this fight."

Maia pressed her lips to his own, relishing in his moment of truth before her. She was petrified for their future, but in the game of thrones, she knew you won or you died. Maia Sanders was determined to win, with her new family by her side. Her only hope was to have as little bloodshed as possible, but in Westeros, that was inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to put this in here (because some people DMed me on the original website that I posted this story on): For people who are gonna come at me saying, "Maia doesn't know anything about fighting!!!! She's acting stupid!!!!!!!!!!!" That's basically the point.
> 
> She doesn't know shit about battles or what she's getting into, but she's still incredibly naïve to the likes of Westeros and wants to support Jon's cause in any way that she can, regardless that she doesn't know anything about fighting. She's being stupid because she cares for him and thinks she can do anything if she puts her mind to it, but in Westeros, that's not always possible. Plus, we all know that doing things for love in this world will most likely make you end up dead. Sooooo yeah, just wanted to say that!


	30. THE TRAVELER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stark team devise a plan. Maia learns her true destiny.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER THIRTY

#####  **__________________________**

**"WE** can't defend the North from the Walkers and the South from the Boltons."

All those gathered around the table looked up at Jon, who spoke defiantly to them. Maia sat close to Sansa as they both were eyeing the pieces on their map carefully in the Watch's common room. A single Stark stone was placed near the Wall on the map, while one for the Boltons sat on Winterfell. Various other house sigils were scattered throughout the map of the North, but Maia found trouble remembering all of them. She looked around at the rest of their team, which consisted of Brienne, Ed, Davos, Tormund, and Melisandre.

"If we want to survive, we need Winterfell. And to take Winterfell, we need more men." Jon threw another stone onto the map.

Ser Davos sensed his agitation. "Aside from the Starks and the Boltons, the most powerful houses in the North are the Umbers, Karstarks, and the Manderlies."

"So shouldn't we be reaching out to them?" Maia furrowed her brow. "If we gather support from more large Northern houses, we can defeat Ramsay easily."

Davos shook his head, moving said houses pieces toward the Boltons in Winterfell. "The Umbers and the Karstarks have already declared for the Boltons, so we're not doing so well there."

"The Umbers gave Rickon to our enemies. They can hang." Sansa muttered, causing the group to grow silent for a moment. "But the Karstarks declared for Ramsay without knowing they had another choice."

"Well, I beg your pardon, my Lady, but they know that a Stark beheaded their father. I don't think we can count on them either."

Sansa sighed heavily through her nostrils. "How well do you know the North, Ser Davos?"

Both Jon and Maia turned to the red-head.

"Precious little, my lady." Davos replied, sitting back down in his stool.

"My father always said Northerners are different, more _loyal_." She stared down the knight. "Suspicious of outsiders."

Davos nodded. "They may well be loyal, but how many rose up against the Boltons when they betrayed your family?" Sansa suddenly went quiet. "I may not know the North, but I know men. They're more or less the same in any corner of the world. Even the _bravest_ of them don't want to see their wives and children skinned for a lost cause."

The entire table's attention was focused on Ser Davos as he continued, "If Jon's got to convince them to fight alongside him, they need to believe it's a fight they can win."

Brienne and Tormund, the ruthless warriors of the bunch, nodded in agreement.

"There are more than three other houses in the North: Glover, Mormont, Cerwyn, Mazin, Hornwood. Two dozen more." Jon suggested, pointing to several places on the map. "Together they equal all the others. We can start small and build."

Maia raised a hand. "I know I'm a little bit behind on my Northern history, but how exactly are you going to do that?"

"You mean to say, ' _we_.'" Tormund muttered, slapping a hand on Maia's back and causing her to jolt.

Sansa nodded. "The North remembers. They remember the Stark name. People will still risk everything for it, from White Harbor to Ramsay's own door."

"I don't doubt it," Ser Davos agreed. "But Jon doesn't have the Stark name."

"No, but I do."

Jon eyed his sister curiously.

"Jon is every bit as much Ned Stark's son as Ramsay is Roose Bolton's." Sansa reiterated, gesturing to her brother. "And there's also the Tullies. They're not Northern, but they will back us against the Boltons without question."

With a shaky sigh, Jon sat in the free seat next to Maia, who took his hand in her hold. Their eyes met and she gave him a soft smile, setting him at ease.

"Didn't know the Tullies still had an army," Davos lofted a brow.

Sansa clasped her hands together. "My uncle, the Blackfish, has reformed it and retaken Riverrun."

Jon glanced up. "How'd you know that?"

Maia and Sansa looked at each other, both with wide eyes. The blonde felt the guilt welling up in her stomach again, but she dared not to spill Sansa's secret. Sansa shouldn't be keeping something from Jon anyways, though Maia knew it wasn't her secret to tell. She barely knew who Sansa met in the first place.

The red-head hesitated. "Ramsay received a raven before I escaped Winterfell."

All eyes turned back to Ser Davos, who uttered, "That's good. The Blackfish is a legend. This alone would mean a great deal." He stood up. "Stark, Tully, a few more houses, and we'll start to look like the winning side."

A grin slowly formed on Sansa's face.

**__________________________**

A woman, red in all aspects of her life, raised a delicate hand to Maia's door and rapped on the wood. The blonde glanced up from her spot next to the window in her bedroom, a book in her hands as she smiled at Melisandre's presence.

Though the two women never usually got along or knew each other before, Maia was still grateful for what the Red Woman had done. When Jon had recounted that she was the one to revive him, Maia felt that she now owed the witch something for doing such a good deed. She seemed more stressed than usual lately, with her red mop of hair in a frizzy mess and eyes more tired than the rest.

"I don't mean to barge in, my Lady, but I must speak with you." The Red Woman moved slowly into her room.

Maia nodded. "Of course. What do you need?"

Melisandre closed the door with a slam, allowing Maia to realize this was more serious than she let on. "Since my realization that I am only powerful with the help of my Lord, I have still been having ... _assumptions_ that I cannot ignore."

The blonde closed the book she held as she waited for the other woman to continue.

"I sense this ... great power in you. Am I correct to assume such?" Melisandre queried, inching closer while making inane gestures with her hands. "I cannot understand what it is exactly. I've been extremely insecure in my power lately. I've learned to believe that the things I see in the flames are nothing but my imagination now, but I can't ignore those I've seen about you. It's been multiple sightings since I first met you. Images of you falling; of you with another man – much darker in skin tone – and in a different time; members of the Watch chasing as you suddenly disappear when touching a weirwood tree ... These are things that I can't overlook, not with how moments are right now."

Maia bit the inside of her cheek, moving to sit down on her mattress. She watched the spark crackle in her fire, thinking over Melisandre's words. "Jon's the only one who knows," she whispered, slowly looking up at her. "You must not tell anyone. I can only have Jon and you – especially, with power like yours – know."

"I understand."

With a sigh, Maia began to play with her fingers. "I can relocate between alternate universes. I'm not from this world."

Maia was taken aback when she saw a wide smirk spread on Melisandre's face as she said, "You are a Traveler."


	31. MAKING HISTORY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stark siblings and company finally leave Castle Black to embark on their mission. Melisandre has a shocking revelation.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

#####  **__________________________**

**POURING** her deepest secrets to someone who clearly understood made Maia feel greatly relieved. Melisandre was an aid to the Lord of Light, thus she had quite a bit of knowledge on sorcery and different types of gifts. Melisandre immediately compared her gift to one of a Traveler, who had the ability to move through universes foreign to them after being reincarnated every one thousand years. She deemed Maia instantly to have a larger purpose in the Seven Kingdoms then what she led on. The Red Woman wasn't sure if she was the true Traveler or not, but she couldn't deny the similarities. And that was oddly terrifying to Maia.

After a long night of telling Jon that though she could not fight in his battles, Maia wanted to travel with him to gather support. It took a lot of convincing – seeing as the two woke up on the floor next to a dying fire with furs wrapped around their bare selves – but Jon had finally agreed. She was scared, if she were being honest, because it wasn't everyday that she was threatened to be raped by some psychotic man she'd never met. But with having her important talk with Melisandre a few days prior, Maia knew this was the best she could do.

She waved good morning to Brienne and Podrick as they passed. Maia began readying her horse and stroked it's soft back. Jon had allowed her to ride the one she had admired for a while: a stark white stallion with long, black hair. As she attached her pack to the horse's reins, she felt a light kiss pressed upon her cheek, and Maia turned to Jon on her right.

His eyes – as usual – held an extreme sense of worry, and she guessed that if they were alone and not in the middle of the snow-covered courtyard, he would've been pacing. "Promise me you won't do anything rash while on this voyage."

"You're being ridiculous." She rolled her eyes before glancing at him once again. His face practically pled for her to agree. "Alright, I promise."

Leaning in, Maia pecked his lips softly. He held her chin in his gloved fingers, appreciating the way he could now kiss his lady in front of all to see, without worrying of his Watch duties. He could do everything that was in his former oath: he could take a wife, hold lands, and father children. The future was limitless now, but it was his fear for these times that was pushing him back.

"Everything will be fine." She compelled, her breath fanning his mouth enough to make him want to kiss her again. "Soon, we shall be in Winterfell. Your sister shall rule and you will have fought valiantly in any battles crossed. I can walk around in a pretty, velvet dress – made by yours truly – while exploring the depths of your home." Maia smiled at the possibilities.

Jon smirked, whispering for only her to hear, "I'd rather rip it off of you."

Maia narrowed her eyes. "You do that, and I'll hit your nose yet again, Snow."

He walked away with a tiny smile on his features, noticing Sansa sauntering in his direction. She held a large cloak in her arms and wore a new dress made of heavy fabric, the Stark emblem stitched into the front. "New dress?" He inquired, raising a brow.

The red-head smiled. "I made it myself. Do you like it?"

"It's nice," he replied, gesturing to the sigil she embroidered. "I like the wolf bit."

Maia could just hear the siblings over the snow storm, and she chuckled at Jon's comment. The man knew nothing about clothing.

"Good," Sansa said, holding out the cloak, "because I made _this_ for you."

Jon took the new cape in his arms, seeing the Stark crest stamped into the leather straps. He looked back up at his step-sister.

"I made it like the one father used to wear, as near as I could remember." She explained with a grin. "Maia helped me a little. We've been sewing together for days."

He didn't know exactly what to say. He'd never been treated so highly before, and the gesture almost seemed too good to be true. "Thank you, Sansa."

"You're welcome," she nodded before striding away to her horse.

Maia slapped a hand on his back as he stared at the cloak. Jon glanced at her from over his shoulder. "Don't do anything rash with that."

The raven-haired man chuckled, using her aid to throw the cape on himself. Maia helped secure the leather bound straps over his chest, not noticing Ed walking their way. Jon smiled towards his friend, advising, "Don't knock it down while I'm gone."

They all looked up at the old-but-sturdy Castle Black. "I'll do me best." Ed replied. The two men went in for a short, sweet hug before Ed said, "Good luck."

Jon dipped his head as Ed went over to hug Maia, who held the shorter man tightly for longer than she should have. "I'll miss you, Ed. Please write to us." She requested, leaning away. "Thank you for always treating me right, from the first day."

That was when Eddison Tollett gave her the most genuine smile he could muster. "You're welcome, m'lady, but you were never a stranger to me."

Maia gave the man one last hug before both her and Jon hopped up onto their horses. She looked around at all of them: the small army of implorers looking for aid. As the gates opened, Jon's horse led, while Sansa and Maia rode just behind, and Melisandre, Ser Davos, and Tormund tailed them.

The red-head turned to the woman next to her. "We're going to make history, you know that?"

" _Please_ ," Maia snickered. "History's only just begun."

**__________________________**

They had stopped in a small tavern while on the road. It was a surprise that there was even one open in the dead of winter, but they headed into the midlands near the Gift, so it wasn't uncommon. The company was grateful to warm up by the torch light as they were served a hot beef pie from the chef, and filled their stomachs with ale provided for free.

Melisandre watched as Maia whispered something into Jon's ear as she hung her arms on his shoulder, causing him to chuckle. Sansa tapped on the table in front of the couple, begging to know what they were joking about. The Red Woman looked back down at the untouched pie on her plate. She remembered a time when she was infatuated with the raven-haired man, though she knew he had eyes for Maia the moment he saw her. A woman could dream.

She thought of all that Maia had told her of her other life. It was amazing to finally have proof that the Traveler wasn't an old tale. Melisandre was amazed to hear that the woman left her betrothed for someone like _Jon Snow_ , but she couldn't blame her. It almost reminded her of the relationship between the long-gone Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. Both women were promised to another, but they couldn't help but run away with another passionate man. The similarities were astounding.

She spied Jon's sword, Longclaw, leaning against the table next to him, where he could grasp it in need of emergency. Her thoughts reverted to Lightbringer, the sword of fire that was destined to triumph over all evil. Remembering the times when she was so convinced Stannis was the Prince Who Was Promised made her feel foolish, but as she continued her stare on that one sword, she began to realize that her answers had been in front of her all along – even before the Lord had resurrected Jon. The prophecy concluded that the Prince would be born from Targaryen blood, though Jon was a Snow, so how could this be?

If there was one thing Melisandre didn't want, it was to be wrong again.

But then, _if_ Jon Snow was the Prince Who Was Promised, that meant the powers within his own Lightbringer came with a price. As the legend went with the Azor Ahai, the man had to plunge his sword into the heart of his loving wife to unleash its energy.

She remembered reading the prophecy long ago so clearly: _"Nissa Nissa," he said to her, for that was her name, "bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world." She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel._

Melisandre thought in disbelief. Her grip on her fork grew tighter, for maybe she was overthinking to a time in the past.

_"I know I've never shown much interest in the subject, but I think I might ask her to marry me, now that I'm free of my Watch duties." Jon muttered to Ser Davos behind closed doors, but little did they know the Red Woman was passing._

_The Onion Knight threw Jon in for a hug. "You kept a secret of caring for her for so long, it's good to have it out in the open now. I hope you do as such, my friend."_

Melisandre turned back to Jon at the end of the table, who was staring at Maia in the most tender way as she had a conversation with Sansa.

Maia was a Traveler. She had a purpose with not only Jon, but with Westeros. She was given this gift to help universes foreign to her. No, the girl couldn't just be a pawn in the Lord of Light's prophecy. It _couldn't_ be –

"Are you alright, my Lady?"

Melisandre glanced to Ser Davos when she heard his call, noticing the Wildling next to her was staring as well. With a silent nod, she went back to sucking down the rest of her ale.


	32. OF WILDLINGS AND GIANTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon Snow asks for aid from the Free Folk. Ramsay devises a plan.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

#####  **__________________________**

**DESPITE** the argument raging in front of them, most of the Free Folk surrounding the Wildling camp went about their regular duties for the day. Jon decided that gathering the Free Folk for his army was his best bet, so their small group arrived there first. Both Jon and Sansa began pleading with the new Wildling leader for his uniting, while Maia stood with Ser Davos and Melisandre with the horses.

"Do you think he has a chance?" The blonde asked her friend on the right.

Davos blew out a heavy huff. "We can only hope."

"We said we'd fight with you, King Crow, when the time comes, and we meant it." The leader, named Dim Dalba, explained from afar, just loud enough for the rest of the group to hear. "But this isn't what we agreed to. These aren't White Walkers. This isn't an army of the dead. _This isn't our fight_."

Tormund stood from his spot on the side. "If it weren't for him, none of us would be here. All of you would be meat in the Night King's army. And I'd be a pile of charred bones, just like Mance."

Dim nodded. "Remember Mance's camp? It stretched all the way to the horizon, and look at us now. Look what's left of us. If we lose this, we're gone: dozens of tribes, hundreds of generations. Be like we were never there at all. We'll be the last of the Free Folk."

Maia's eyes traveled upward to see Wun Wun the Giant staring right at her as he sighed. Her mouth went agape at seeing the large creature. He was something out of her stories as a child; this only existed in kid's books. Was she the only one who was surprised?

"That's what'll happen to you if _we_ lose," Jon replied, crossing his hands together. "The Boltons, the Karstarks, the Umbers – they know you're here. They know that more than half of you are women and children. After they finish with me, they'll come for you."

Dim's face seemed to soften as Jon continued, "You're right, this isn't your fight. You shouldn't have to come to Winterfell with me. I shouldn't be asking you. It's not the deal we made. But I need you with me if we're going to beat them, and we need to beat them if you're going to survive."

Tormund noticed the Wildlings start to look around at each other. "The Crows killed him," he said, gesturing to Jon, "because he spoke for the Free Folk when no other Southerners would. He died for us. If we are not willing to do the same for him, we're cowards. If that's what we are, we deserve to be the last of the Free Folk."

Maia smiled at Tormund's speech, realizing how loyal the man was to Jon now. Her lover had done so much for him, and he was definitely returning the favor in time of need.

Dim continued to ponder his options, but then Wun Wun stood from his area on a spare log. He stared down Jon, causing Maia to grip Ser Davos in fright, though all of her group seemed unmoved at his presence. " _Snow_ ," the giant growled, before ultimately walking away to another part of the camp. He passed by Maia in huge stomps, but did not come close to her. She looked over her shoulder at the giant in awe.

The Wildlings around Dim nodded in agreement. The leader sauntered towards Jon, extending his arm. The raven-haired man looked down at the gesture before grasping his bicep, sealing their deal.

Dim walked away, already preparing to pack up camp, and Jon turned to glance at Tormund. "You sure they'll come?"

"We're not clever like you Southerners." Tormund smiled. "When we say we'll do something, we do it."

**__________________________**

Ramsay slammed another piece of parchment onto his father's – or should he say, _his_ – desk. Everything was new now. He had such new _power_. From being claimed legitimate to becoming the Lord of Winterfell, it almost seemed like things were finally going Ramsay's way. He might have lost Reek, and the only wife that he hadn't killed yet, but soon they'd all return. They'd all _see_.

The new Warden of the North let out a heavy sigh, looking to Harald Karstark on his left. "All this work just to cut off a bastard's head!" He seethed, setting his quill in a bottle of ink. "All I ask is for my wife back. What do I get? News thrown in my face that this bastard is trying to form an army against me. I thought my letter was quite nice, don't you?"

Harald cleared his throat. "You threatened to tear out his eye balls, my Lord."

"That's nice for me." Ramsay replied. He looked down at the book resting in front of him, which listed various houses within the North. If the bastard was smart, he would start small and build onto bigger houses. Lucky for Ramsay, he already had the biggest houses secured.

The Lord of Winterfell narrowed his eyes in Harald's direction. "Have you received word on the bastard's whereabouts?"

"Smalljon Umber sent a raven yesterday that he and your wife were seen gathering Wildling troops." The Karstark scoffed. "Out of all people: _Wildlings_. In his letter, he said he thinks they're headed in the direction of Bear Island next."

Ramsay widened his eyes. "Why didn't you think to tell me this before?"

"I thought I did."

"Hold onto your cock," Ramsay fumed, "because I'm _this_ close to cutting it off."

The former bastard began rifling through his papers, finding the letter he received from the ruler of Bear Island, a girl by the age of ten named Lyanna Mormont. The paper she sent was rather vulgar for her age, and she also refused to pledge for anyone but the name Stark. Surely, Jon Snow was going to go to them for aid.

"Gather a few troops and head to Bear Island," Ramsay ordered. "Come back with my wife, or else."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I will admit, this is going VERY SLIGHTLY AU. (Not like it wasn't before lol.) But, I swear, it's only very slighted diverted from the canon of the show and everything will quickly fall into the canon after that. I just wanted to create more drama until the real drama starts during the battle.


	33. TO RATHER BURN NOR KNEEL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stark team visits Bear Island to ask them to join their army. Maia finds out some more interesting news, and Bolton soldiers attack.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

#####  **__________________________**

**THE** doors to the great hall of Bear Island opened, allowing the group of Sansa, Jon, Davos, and Maia entrance. The unfamiliar blonde stood in back of Ser Davos, aware that she was clearly unknown, but Jon said he agreed to involve her in as much business as possible (besides fighting), so here she stood.

A guard, maester, and small girl sat at the table in front of them. The room was adorned in various crests and colors, all pertaining to House Mormont. The ceiling opened up to a glass pane, overlooking a beautiful-yet-cloudy sky. The child at the head table looked up at their party of four oddly, as if she already hated being in their presence. They all bowed their heads as Jon greeted, "Lady Mormont."

"Welcome to Bear Island," the young girl continued to frown.

The silence became deafening while Maia stared at the crackling fire in back of Lady Mormont. The child noticed this, giving her a narrowed-eyed look. A bird cawed from outside. Jon looked to Sansa for support.

"I remember when you were born, my Lady." Sansa smiled. "You were named for my aunt, Lyanna. They said she was a great beauty. I'm sure you will be too."

Lyanna scowled. "I _doubt_ it. My mother wasn't a great beauty or any other kind of beauty. She was a great warrior though. She died fighting for your brother, Robb."

Sansa gave her brother a wide-eyed glance. " _Yikes_ ," Maia muttered under her breath, but loud enough for Ser Davos to turn.

"I served under your uncle at Castle Black, Lady Lyanna." Jon said, offering help to his sister. "He was also a great warrior and an honorable man. I was his steward. In fact, I –"

"I think we've had enough small talk." Lyanna interrupted. "Why are you here?"

Jon swallowed a lump lodged in his throat. "Stannis Baratheon garrisoned at Castle Black before he marched on Winterfell and was killed. He showed me the letter you wrote to him when he petitioned for men. It said –"

"I _remember_ what it said." The child sneered. "Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, who's name is Stark."

Jon nodded. "Robb is gone, but House Stark is not. And it needs your support now more than ever." He gestured to Sansa. "I've come with my sister to ask for House Mormont's allegiance."

Lyanna leaned over to her maester, whispering desperate words in his ear. Maia looked at Ser Davos, who was studying the young girl's actions. She moved back to her regular position after a moment. "As far as I understand, you're a Snow, and Lady Sansa is a Bolton. Or is she a Lannister? I've heard conflicting reports."

"I did what I had to do to survive, my Lady." Sansa explained. "But I am a Stark. I will always be a Stark."

Lyanna shrugged. "If you say so." Her gaze then fell on Maia. "And who are _you_? You're so unfamiliar, I can't understand if you're a bastard or something else."

Maia's mouth fell agape. She hadn't planned to be put on the spot like this, but luckily Jon recovered for her: "This is Lady Maia of House Sanders. She's accompanying our army, for she is a gifted healer."

Lyanna leaned over to her maester again. They exchanged worried looks before she turned her eyes back to Maia. "I heard House Sanders died out after Robert's Rebellion. How are you here? I'm not sure if I believe this."

Maia was taken aback. There was _no way_ her maiden name belonged to a house in this world. Her ex would've told her if that were the case. Maybe she truly did have to brush up on her Westerosi history. Nevertheless, she held her head high, trying to fake confidence in her speech.

"Believe it or not, my Lady," she replied, "but it's almost as if I fell out of the sky."

Jon chuckled softly, allowing Lyanna to snarl, "Though you are still a _healer_. I believe she does not have a place in this meeting."

Maia laid a hand on Jon's shoulder, nodding her head. "She's right. I'll be outside with Tormund." She glanced back at Lyanna. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Mormont."

She looked over her shoulder as a pair of armed men opened the doors for her. Jon was staring at her, and just as the entrance was about to close, she mouthed the words, _Good luck_.

**__________________________**

"She said my house died out years ago," Maia whispered to Tormund beside her. "I had no idea I even had family in Westeros."

Tormund chuckled, leaning his back against the castle enclosing Lady Mormont and their friends. Various workers and merchants gathered in the clearing of the village, going about they daily obligations. Maia knew Lyanna was right – there was no need for her to be in their meeting – but she couldn't help biting her lip as she worried for Jon's sake.

"In a world such as ours, you're lucky if you know anything about your family." Tormund replied a moment later. "Jon only knows one of his parents, who was then beheaded. I know nothing of my family. I have never heard of your house, personally. House Sanders may have been demolished, but it looks like you were their secret weapon."

Derek would not have believed Tormund's statement. _He's the love child of Lyanna Stark, Ned's sister, and Rhaegar Targaryen, Daenery's brother_ , she remembered him explaining. She wished she knew the true answer.

Maia smiled at Tormund's words, knowing he just wanted to help. Remembering a time when they were at each other's throats seemed foreign to her. "I just wish I knew more."

"You will – _someday_." He shrugged before gesturing to the latrines. "I need to take a piss. You stay here so Jon doesn't murder me, alright?"

"Pretty sure Jon doesn't stand a chance against you, Tormund." She giggled to the older man. "But I'll stay."

He walked off with a thumbs up, disappearing into the crowd of merchants and sellers at their pantry stations. Maia blew out a sigh, looking around at the strangers engulfing the village, reminding herself when she used to be one as well. Now, she was _something_ – not just a Traveler with a gift, but possibly the last member of a house long gone. She wondered if Melisandre knew any info about the topic, though usually the witch was mainly knowledgeable on prophecies and power.

Maia looked up to the sky, squinting at the beating sun. She hadn't seen the sun in so long, mostly just behind clouds at Castle Black. She enjoyed the glow it imprinted on everyone in the village, but did not notice that this act was a mere moment of her vulnerability.

Before she could scream, a cloth was tied around her mouth. Her eyes looked around wildly for the culprit as she tried to call out Tormund's name through the obstruction. She spotted two men in back of her, dragging her into one of the village's many allies by her arms. "It's _her_. I know it!" One of them whispered. "They say she colored her hair!" She wiggled out of their grasps before they could throw her on their carriage.

She instantly recognized the Bolton sigil on their chest as she swung her fist. It collided with the stone wall behind them, causing her knuckles to bleed. She wasn't giving up as they went in to grab her again. Her fist then clipped with one of the guard's noses, sending him to the ground. He scrambled to get up and she continued to stomp over to him, completely forgetting about his partner behind her. The first Bolton soldier skid across the dirt while she kicked out her legs to intimidate him. The blood from her knuckles coated the ground.

"Maia!"

She instantly recognized the Wildling's voice. Maia ripped the cloth off her mouth and turned her head in the direction of his voice, screaming out, "Tormund, I need help!"

In a second, he was at the end of the ally, cracking his knuckles. She was close to letting out a breath of relief, but then a sack was thrown over her head. She shrieked while her arms flapped around to hit the Bolton men. Tormund screamed for her again, but he was too late as the two guards threw her body into their carriage, and yelled for their friend manning the horses to move.

They were gone by the time Tormund reached the place where Maia had been. He watched the Bolton flags wave on the carriage. The Wildling didn't know what to think, though there one thing he knew for sure: Ramsay finally had Jon's lady, and with this, he was either going to use her for intimidation or Maia was as good as dead.


	34. WOLVES AND GIRLS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: SEXUAL HARRASSMENT/UNWANTED TOUCHING
> 
> Jon and company make a plan to save their Traveler. Maia meets the infamous Ramsay Bolton and learns his favorite way of punishment.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

#####  **__________________________**

**"WHERE** IS _SHE_?"

Jon looked around at his party. The group of four looked around at each other in confusion. He asked again, " _Where is she_?" They surrounded the village square of Bear Island, the locals staring at them as they passed. Jon's party was causing a commotion, but he didn't care at all, because they still had one missing member as the minutes ticked on.

He grabbed Tormund's collar, spitting in his face, "You were watching her. Where did she go?"

"First of all, _let me go_." The Wildling shoved Jon's hands away, releasing a huff. "Secondly, I went off to take a piss. Now, I admit: that was pretty stupid of me, but when a man has to –"

"GET TO THE POINT!"

Tormund looked down at his feet. "I couldn't get to her in time. The Boltons – they took her. Put a sack over her head and threw her in a carriage."

Jon closed his eyes, realizing he was suddenly breathing heavily. He put a hand over his heart and tried to control it. _This couldn't be happening_ – oh, but it was. The villagers surrounding them were suddenly too much, and Jon felt the space in front of him growing smaller and smaller.

Sansa laid a hand on his shoulder. "Jon, look at me." She ordered, seeing his eyes rise a moment later. "You need to stay calm. The only way we will be able to get through this is to stay calm."

She began to look at their group, watching all of their faces contort as they thought out a plan. "I do not know why Ramsay took Lady Maia, or found out our location. My guess is that his idiotic guards thought Maia was I and the Umbers are keeping watch on us, so we must be more quiet in our gathering. We now have the Mormonts on our side and we have to move onto the Glovers before they follow us again."

The party nodded quickly as Sansa pointed to the Onion Knight. "Ser Davos, you know the way to Deepwood Motte. I want you and a few men to ride to Winterfell. Do not – I repeat, _do not_ – attack. Wait him out. Once he realizes his guards have done wrong, he'll keep her for a couple hours for intimidation, though I know he'll release her. He'll do it to scare you, but _don't_ attack. The real battle is ahead, and then we'll have Rickon back as well."

Jon gaped at his step-sister, hoping her words were right. Their group nodded their heads until Davos moved to collect a couple men. Sansa was confident. She knew this would work. She knew Ramsay.

Sooner or later, he would get everything that came to him.

**__________________________**

The bag was finally ripped from the top of her head as she was thrown to a cold, stone floor. Maia looked up to the two men closing a barred gate in front of her. Sweat coated her forehead as she instantly stood, wringing her hands on the bars and hoping they'd break. "LET ME _OUT_!" She shrieked.

Maia banged his bloody fists against the bars one more time before sitting down. She wiped the edge of her nose, releasing a sniffle. No, she was not going to cry. She wouldn't give these monsters that sentiment.

"Hello?"

At this point, Maia was sure she was hearing voices. It sounded like a young boy had said it, and yet, there was no one in sight. The greeting repeated, but all she could see was the dripping of water from the ceiling of her cell.

"Over here."

Maia looked to her left, spotting a tiny barred window to the cell next to her. She slid over, peering through the small hole, and to her surprise, a head appeared behind the bars. He was probably a teenager, she guessed, with a head of blonde curls and eyes the color of the sea. His face was covered in dirt, reflecting with the same sheen of sweat that Maia had herself.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Who are _you_?" She returned with a lofted brow.

The boy looked away as a guard passed by their cells. He then whispered, "I'm Rickon."

" _Stark_?" Maia questioned lowly, allowing him to nod. "We've been looking for you this _whole_ time."

Rickon became confused. " _We_?"

"I was with your siblings, Jon and Sansa, on Bear Island before I was captured. You won't be here much longer, Rickon. They are gathering an army and plan to take back Winterfell." She stuck her hand through the bars. "My name is Maia ... of House Sanders." Just thinking over her statement seemed odd.

They shook hands, but as they both leaned away, Rickon whispered, "I know you have good intentions, Lady Maia, but you don't understand the Boltons. They'll kill us all."

She nodded slowly. "I know, but –"

Footsteps echoed then. A door was opened, letting light into the dark dungeon. Rickon and Maia moved away from each other, and the blonde slid herself into the corner of the damp cell. She covered her eyes with her arms, peaking them over her skin to see a pair of boots stop themselves in front of her bars. She swallowed.

He was a bizarrely handsome man, she'd give him that. He had a mop of dark, blackened waves. His eyes were a wild blue and opened wide in a crazed manner. Dressed head to toe in leather, he approached her cell, unlocking it in one swift motion. He had a man beside him, keeping watch.

"Good evening, my Lady." His eyes laid on her, growing curious as he walked towards her. He knelt before her, picking up a strand of her blonde hair. "I see my men have made a dreadful mistake."

Harald furrowed his brow. "Your guards thought her to be Sansa Stark."

"Well, she is _clearly not_ Sansa Stark." Ramsay spat, glancing to his ally before looking back at the girl in front of him. He watched her grit her teeth. "But she is _somebody_."

" _Who are you_?" Maia asked through her teeth.

He chuckled darkly. "Why, I'm Ramsay Bolton, my Lady. Surely, you've heard of me: Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell." He suddenly clasped her chin in his calloused fingers. "And you're Lady Maia of House Sanders. You've been kept in Castle Black since you suddenly dropped here from nowhere."

His friend, Harald, took a step closer into the cell. "I've never heard of House Sanders, my Lord."

"Most would not." Ramsay replied quickly, looking back at Maia. "House Sanders was a fairly small, noble house from the Midlands. Only circulated a tiny village, but they were an honorable house, my father once told me. Then their lord turned idiotic during Robert's Rebellion, and they sided with the Targaryens. They fought within the battle, and just after that, they were completely wiped out. I remember their phrase: _To rather burn nor kneel_. And so they did." He released a short laugh at the blonde's expense. "Except for this one, perhaps."

Maia narrowed her eyes. "You've been spying."

Ramsay shrugged. "That's one way to put it."

"You threatened to _rape_ me, you _fucking_ monster." She leaned forward, their noses almost touching. "What do you _want_ from me?"

"Particularly nothing, if I'm being frank." He gave his friend at the door a side-eyed glare. "My men thought you to be my wife, but I realized you've been communicating with both Sansa and the bastard brother."

"His name is _Jon_." Maia snarled, spitting in the man's face before she could stop herself.

Ramsay wiped the bile from his face, continuing his smile. Before she could register the action, his hand whipped across her cheek. "So the rumors are true. Lord Snow retired from the Night's Watch and took a lady. How _nice_."

Maia held a hand to her cheek, slowly meeting his eyes. Her knuckles cracked, her blood boiled – she wanted to _kill_ him. They stared at each other for a long moment, until she uttered the words, "I'm _not_ scared of you."

"Oh, my Lady, you should be."

He stood, watching as her brows knit in confusion as a sly grin appeared on his face. Ramsay wanted to intimidate – _terrify her_ , perhaps – and he began to undo the knots on his trousers. "So have you sucked the bastard's cock yet, my Lady?"

Harald looked away.

Maia tried burrowing herself in the corner of the cell, shaking her head. " _No_ ," she begged as he reached out, "keep your hands _away_ from me."

Ramsay pulled her by the hairs of the top of her head, watching her eyes well up with invisible tears as he inched her closer to his nether region. She tried pushing him back, but to no avail, for her held the top of her head firmly in his tight grip.

Then the bastard started to laugh.

"I'm only _joking_!" He chuckled loudly – _too loud_. "I had you fooled _completely_!"

He grasped her shoulders, pulling her upward from the floor. Maia let out a quiet yip when he touched her. Rickon was at the window again, shouting, "Lady Maia!"

"Shut your mouth, Stark!" Ramsay sneered. He turned back to Maia, feeling the muscles in her arms twist under his grip. His eyes narrowed at her own, but she gave no expression. Without warning, his hands grasped the middle of her dress and he tore it in half, allowing her bare breasts to smother in the open air.

Maia screamed as he pushed her against the wall, feeling his hands massage her chest with calloused fingers. She noticed Harald looking away, no matter how loud she shrieked. She breathed heavily as Ramsay leaned his face close, watching her with his _too-blue_ eyes. "I want you to remember my face," he whispered. "I want you to remember this when the bastard is fucking you all day and night. _Remember_ , Lady Maia."

Her hands balled into fists when she tried pushing him away. She was weak. Her knuckles bled. Her eyes were opened wide, shocking filling them. She wanted to give up. Her nipples hardened at the crisp chill in the air, feeling Ramsay's grip grow more aggressive.

"Women are not toys to be played with. Wolves and girls both have sharp teeth," she managed to reply as her teeth grit. "Best remember that yourself, Lord Bolton."

His hand then lifted from her bareness, and she used this spare second to quickly cover herself with her torn clothes. Her jaw clenched as she stared at him, trying to hold her urge in to lunge at him and shove her fist into his eye twenty times over. He hadn't done what he promised in his letter, per se, but this bastard violated her nonetheless. "You'll pay for this," she whispered lowly, just loud enough for him to hear. "Just _wait_."

In that moment, Ramsay backed away and gave her a toothy grin. "I think ... I'm going to be nice today."

Maia's face contorted, looking from him to Harald next to the bars. She tugged at her torn bodice and tried covering herself as much as possible. She could almost still feel his hands on her again.

"I'm going to let you go." He gave her a crazed smile. "But I want you to deliver a message."

She felt herself shiver. Her whole body quaked. "What message?"

Ramsay only smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this didn't upset anyone too much, but it was essential to the story. This is Westeros, and this is Ramsay's way to torture. Plus, this was just another scene to show how Maia is still so naive to the ways of Westeros. She is used to fighting back with her words against people who try to hold her down, which comes from the type of progressive world she grew up then, but Westeros does not work like that. Women and men are punished when they speak to a noble in bad way, and this is Maia really learning that.
> 
> So I just wanted to explain that as another instance! I don't write her this way because I'm trying to make her seem Mary Sue-ish (btw I absolutely HATE that world), but it's her way of learning the ways of Westeros. Hope you all liked this chapter!
> 
> -Victoria


	35. A MESSAGE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia is rescued by Ser Davos and is happily reunited with the Stark company. A message is recited.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

#####  **__________________________**

**MAIA** kicked the air as two men lifted her from the ground, dragging her across the mud. She heard Rickon screaming her name while they pulled her from the Winterfell dungeon. She looked around, witnessing every area in the courtyard of Winterfell coated in Bolton banners. Different merchants and children begged for those around to buy their crops. Every inch of this place was filled with despair.

This was real. This was happening. Ramsay Bolton had total control.

The gates to Winterfell opened as Ramsay ordered his guards, "Throw her out." The men shrugged, immediately tossing the blonde into the mud when the entrance fully opened. "Don't forget about my message, Lady Maia!"

Maia lifted her head, mud and soot sliding down her face as she responded, "FUCK YOU!"

The doors closed instantaneously.

Maia hadn't noticed Ser Davos on his horse in front of the gates when she had fallen into the wet dirt. She looked up at the Onion Knight, witnessing a couple Wildling men behind him. Davos then knelt before her, smothering his pants with mud, and breathed out a heavy sigh. Maia couldn't stop herself from crying then, tears mixing with the sweat and soot on her face. She struggled with keeping the top of her dress closed, but in that moment, modesty meant nothing to her. "Lady Sanders," Davos shook his head and tried wiping away all that coated her features.

"He's terrible," she sobbed. "He's such a _fucking_ , _evil_ being."

Davos hoisted her up by her shoulders. "Did he ..." His eyes searched her, noticing every piece of clothing was not in tact. "Did he touch you?"

She nodded her head, slowly but he noticed it.

Ser Davos tilted her cheek, noticing a large bruise forming across the bone. The Wildlings behind him took a step closer when he looked over his shoulder at them. "Gather the horses together. We're leaving for Deepwood Motte."

**__________________________**

The ride wasn't too long of a journey. Maia hung her arms around Davos' waist as he rode their group slightly South. The land of Deepwood Motte wasn't exactly colder, but a lot more windy, Maia noticed. She lifted her head when Ser Davos said they were near, noticing the familiar color of bright red hair leaving the gates that adorned a large fist sigil: the symbol of House Glover.

Her face was hidden by Davos' cloak that he draped over her, but even twenty feet away, Jon saw her glowing features. He had been disappointed in House Glover's actions to not back them in a fight, though not as disappointed as Sansa was. But then the two siblings witnessed Ser Davos' arrival, and their spirits lifted. Sansa's plan had worked.

The Onion Knight was only a few feet away from the relatives and their army, but Jon was already running. Davos' horse halted to a short stop, allowing Jon to immediately pick Maia off the animal so she could fall into his arms. Her arms tightened around his as she felt the tears begin to form again. The muscles in her biceps gave her the strength to hold him with every fiber of her being. He held the back of her head, causing her to shelter it in the crook of his neck. She breathed him in, enjoying the smell of musk and snow instead of crusted blood.

"Thank the Gods," he breathed into her hair. Jon slowly let her feet touch the ground and brushed strands of blonde from her face. His hands cupped her cheeks as he stared into her tired eyes, before realizing the blue and purple bruise right under her lid. He noticed the cloak was coming undone and he witnessed her bareness with torn fabric falling at her sides. "Did _he_ do this to you?"

Maia suddenly felt small under his heated gaze. He was so dreadfully _angry_. She couldn't speak, nor did she want to.

"I'm going to strangle that Ramsay Bolton –" Jon snarled under his breath, dragging Maia by her arm to his horse, before Sansa shoved him back. She gave him one, single-handed look that said, _Don't even try_.

The red-headed sister then wrapped her arms around Maia, rubbing circles into the blonde's back. "He will never hurt you again." Sansa whispered into her ear. "He will never touch _us_ again."

Maia's head lifted to look at the two step-siblings. "I spoke with Rickon," she smiled softly, despite the circumstances they were all in. "He knows. I told him we're coming."

Sansa smiled at her brother, a look of satisfaction engulfing her features. Ser Davos slowly approached the three and offered his condolences to Maia before muttering, "Ramsay said you had a message, Lady Sanders. Do you mind telling?"

Maia swallowed the lump in her throat and looked at her hands. Jon's arm instinctively wrapped around her torso, pulling her close, as he replied, "Give her some time."

**__________________________**

The army made a stop at a tavern close to the place of encampment that evening, almost filling the entire pub. The owners said their place hadn't been that full in ages, and thanked Jon and Sansa immensely while serving plates upon plates of food.

Maia wasn't hungry, regardless of not eating for more than twenty hours. She sat in front of the tavern's fireplace, her fingers wrapped around a tall glass of ale. She sipped it occasionally as her eyes danced around the flames before her. She was given a new dress from Sansa, but Maia hated that she was now unaccustomed to feeling the wind hit her breasts in an uncomfortable way.

After sucking down a bowl of hearty chowder, Jon walked over to kneel by his lady. He took a moment to stare at the fire before asking, "How're you feeling?"

"I'm not as cold." She shrugged, bringing the cloak around her again. "But then again, I think I'm still reeling from finding out that I'm not only a Traveler, my last name is apparently from an old appointed house that was wiped out after siding with the Targaryens in Robert's Rebellion – oh, and not to mention, I was kidnapped by a man who assaulted me."

Jon stared at his hands during her rant that was laced with sarcasm. He guessed Ramsay told the bit of information of her supposed house, because he surely knew nothing about it. "Look at me."

Maia's eyes slowly raised, meeting his dark orbs. He reached out and grabbed her hands. She immediately retracted them, firmly gripping his fingers in her own on impulse. For a split second, she thought of Ramsay: his _hands_ ; all over her. " _Remember, Lady Maia_ ," he had said, and so she would.

Jon looked from her grasp to her eyes, watching them slowly come to the realization of what she was doing. "Sorry," she whispered, allowing their digits to lace again. The blonde then relished in the feel of his soft, cold hands, feeling his fingertips caress the scabs across her knuckles. Jon leaned close, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Maia closed her lids and breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I'm going to kill him, Maia." He breathed against her skin, causing her eyes to suddenly open. "I'm going to kill him with my own, bare hands."

She lightly pushed him away. "You're not the only one who gets to do it." She defended with a frown. "Those who have gripe with Ramsay Bolton are all dead. Barely anyone in our army has had personal interaction with him, besides me and your step-sister. _You_ haven't even met him. Everything she says is true: you _don't_ know him. From just ten minutes with him, I already know the man is twisted beyond belief. If there's anyone who deserves to be the last person Ramsay Bolton sees before he dies, it's Sansa."

Jon exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. She searched his eyes for a proper response, and he soon nodded at her words. "You're right," he agreed, taking her hands in his own. "But no matter what, I'm going to have his blood on my hands. He assaulted my sister more times than I can count, and did the same to you. He tried kidnapping her back, but took you by mistake. He touched _both of you_. You're a Traveler – one of the _gifted_ – and now you're in the Great Game. Our army may not have the numbers; we may not have all of the North with us, but we have our hate. We have our experiences and past with Ramsay, and because of that, he will die."

His hand lingered across her cheek's bruise, and she casually covered it with her own hand. She nodded at his reply, knowing he meant every word said. "Maia," he breathed after a moment, "you have to tell me the message from Ramsay."

Maia bobbed her head, glancing at the fire before turning back to him. She took a deep inhale.

"He wanted me to tell you: 'I had your lady. I can take anyone I want. I'm going to kill you and take back my wife, bastard.'"


	36. THE MAN IN MOLE'S TOWN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stark army sets up camp before the battle. Sansa finds a way to gather more troops.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

#####  **__________________________**

**MAIA'S** hair blew in the gust of wind as her arms locked around Jon's waist. Their group of him, Sansa, Davos, and Maia rode through the newly resurfaced camp, looking down at the gathered men from their horses. Maia rested her head on Jon's shoulder, leaning herself against him as he rode her horse amongst the troops of the camp.

"Stannis camped here on his way to Winterfell," Ser Davos mentioned from the right.

Sansa furrowed her brow. "And that's a good thing?"

Maia couldn't help but notice that Sansa's tone was always laced with spite around the former knight. Davos nodded at her words regardless. "He was the most experience commander in Westeros. He chose this place for a reason." He pointed his finger upward. "Those mountains are a natural fortification. There's a stream down there for the horses, and bathing if you please."

"We're not staying here long." Jon muttered, causing Maia to glance at him. "Another storm could hit any day."

Maia stared at a group of Mormont men talking together. "We're in the _North_. Shouldn't that be a given by now?"

"Aye," Davos agreed, "the snow defeated Stannis as much as the Boltons did."

The four dismounted their horses, allowing a couple guards to hoard them away as they continue their stride through the camp on foot. Maia kept one of her hands locked around Jon's, watching the way some of their men's brows furrowed at the sight of the bruise on her face.

"We have to march on Winterfell now, while we still can." Jon suggested, staring at each and every one of the troops while they walked.

"Two thousand Wildlings," the Onion Knight counted, "two hundred Hornwoods, one hundred and fourty three Mazins –"

Sansa interrupted, "Sixty-two Mormonts."

"It could be worse." Maia replied, noticing Jon's grip tightening on her digits.

"It's not what we _hoped_ for," Davos shrugged as they sauntered in the snow, "but we still have a chance. If we're careful and smart."

Ser Davos began to look back after hearing a couple men shouting profanities at each other. The Widling and Hornwood men got close, bumping their chests against one another for intimidation. Davos groaned, "Oh, for fuck's sake," before stomping over to the circle that surrounded the two troops.

Maia released a huff as the three continued to walk to the edge of the camp. "So he's your most trusted advisor now?" Sansa inquired to Jon. "Because he secured sixty-two men from a ten-year-old?"

The blonde furrowed her brow. "He's more than that, Sansa."

"Ser Davos is the reason I'm standing here talking to you both and he served Stannis for years." Jon tried to reason with her.

"Stannis?" Sansa struggled not to chuckle as shrieks echoed from behind. "Who lost the Blackwater? Who murdered his own brother? Who doesn't have a _head_?"

Jon grumbled, clearly agitated because he knew his sister was right. Maia sensed the fight growing deeper, but knew it wasn't in her place to say anything.

"It's not _enough_. We _need more men_."

The raven-haired commander turned. "There's no time."

"If we went down to Castle Cerwyn, I _know_ that Lord –"

Jon freed Maia's hand from his grasp, leaving her to widen her eyes as he approached his sister closer. "We _fight_ with the army we _have_!"

Sansa stared at him with tired eyes before Jon looked behind her, finally noticing the fight getting more violent. Davos wrestled to maintain all the men, and Jon sighed as he made his way over to help. The red-headed sister glanced over her shoulder at him and shook her head.

"He's right," Maia mumbled, causing Sansa's vision to rest on her. "We don't have the numbers, but we have time. If we try to gather more support, we will have more houses backing us, though it will give Ramsay more time as well." The blonde ran a hand through her hair, spotting Jon getting shoved to the ground before she began to stalk over to the fight. "You can't stop getting hurt for _one fucking minute_ ..."

Sansa heard a squawking from her spot in the snow. She looked over to where a few men were unpacking ravens for Lady Mormont. Sansa narrowed her eyes at the birds, and almost instantly, she knew what she had to do.

**__________________________**

Under the dim light of the flame in her tent, Sansa dipped her quill back in the bottle of ink and signed her name. She held up the piece of parchment in between her fingers, admiring her handiwork. This was her last straw; her last effort. She knew that if this plan didn't work, nothing would.

_You promised to protect me. Now you have a chance to fulfill your promise. Knights of the Vale are under your command. Ride North for Winterfell. Lend us your aid and I shall see to it that you are rewarded. – Sansa Stark_

She sighed, pouring a splotch of red wax onto the corner of the letter and pushing her Stark stamp into it. Getting Petyr to lend them the Knights of the Vale for the battle would be the cure to a life or death situation. Sansa knew she had no part in the physical aspect of the war, but she was damn sure she would have a part in saving them.

The secret had been bugging Maia ever since they left Castle Black. Her guilt of knowing Sansa left for Mole's Town one day was one thing, but not realizing who she'd seen was eating her alive. Why was this person to be kept secret from her own brother? Did Sansa really trust him?

Maia shoved the flaps of Sansa's tent open, stomping the snow off her boots and the bottom of her skirt. The other girl immediately turned around, cocking her head to the side. "Okay," the blonde huffed, "I _need_ to know, Sansa."

Sansa stood from her desk, sprinting over to Maia and folding the paper in between her fingers. "Maia, great timing." She smiled, handing the letter over. "I need you to send this off with a raven. It's very important –"

"Forget about the raven." Maia spat, closing the entrance to the Stark sister's tent.

Sansa's face fell.

"You never gave me an answer about Mole's Town." The blonde ran a hand through her knotted waves, wincing as her nails dug into the strands. "You've had me keep this stupid, _fucking_ secret for so long, and I can't take it. I've kept a secret from Jon before, and I'm surprised the guilt didn't tear me apart completely. You lived with Jon throughout most of your life. You know that if you keep something from him, he's bound to find out."

Sansa nodded. "It's funny that you ask," she frowned, looking back at the letter in her hands. "This letter is for _him_ – for the man I met in Mole's Town. Have you heard of a lord known as Petyr Baelish?"

The name was familiar. Maia wracked her brain to figure out the significance, until Derek's old voice rang in her head, and she finally realized how much she missed it: _Petyr Baelish is one conniving, little man. He's also known as Littlefinger and controls basically everyone he meets. He's been obsessed with Sansa since she came of age, because he was madly in love with her mother, but Catelyn never loved him back. Since then, he's been consumed with using Sansa for his own gain._

Maia turned her head back to the Stark sibling. "Are you sure you can trust him?"

"No," she shook her head, "but who can you truly trust in Westeros?"

The blonde knew she had a point. "Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it, Sansa. Just don't go on keeping secrets from Jon. It's not good to do."

Sansa faked a smile, knowing full well that the paper in her digits held yet another secret from her step-brother.

Maia hadn't slept well in her tent that night, thoughts imploring her that Sansa had lied again, but she tried her best to shoo them away. When she had awoken the next morning, a phrase from one of her dreams kept repeating in her head, for she couldn't relieve herself of it no matter what. Maia held a hand to her chest as she sat up, restating, "Promise me, Ned," and wished to the Gods to know it's true meaning.


	37. SLEEP WELL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opposing forces meet face-to-face.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

#####  **__________________________**

**STARK** banners flared in the air behind them. Wind whisked the hair off their shoulders. Tall grass in an open field just about brushed their ankles.

Maia shielded her eyes from the sun just peeking out of the clouds, finally getting a look of Winterfell in the distance. It was a large, beautiful structure, even more magnificent than what it seemed like in books. She grasped her horse's reins tightly within her fingers, spotting Bolton flags heading in their direction. The familiar sight of Ramsay Bolton made her insides twist.

When the blonde had been woken up in her shared tent with Jon, the memory of Ramsay's malicious face almost made her refuse to go. She told Jon she wanted a place in the battle, but that was before she got to meet the Bolton Lord himself. After deciding she was not going to let Ramsay make her yet another pawn in his schemes, Maia left with them, hoping he wouldn't manage to spot her behind the Stark siblings.

Jon and Sansa sat on their horses in the front of the line, with Maia and Ser Davos just behind them. Lyanna Mormont and Tormund watched from afar, accompanied by two knights for comfort. Jon turned to his sister, muttering, "You don't have to be here."

Sansa continued her stare ahead. "Yes, I do."

The commander then looked over his shoulder, watching Maia breathe heavily at the familiar stench of rusted blood in the air. "You don't either."

Maia only glanced his way, no words falling from her chapped lips. Jon twisted back around on his horse, viewing Ramsay's own stallion stopping short just a few feet from them. He, too, had a small army with him, which consisted of a couple knights, Harald Karstark, and Smalljon Umber.

Ramsay first locked eyes with Sansa, his face expressionless until a smirk made its way. "My beloved wife. I've missed you terribly."

Sansa was silent.

"Thank you for returning Lady Bolton safely," he then gestured to Jon. "Now, dismount and kneel before me. Surrender your army, and proclaim me the true Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I will pardon you for deserting the Night's Watch. I will pardon these _treasonous_ lords for betraying my house."

No one said a word. Maia was even afraid to breathe, in fear that Ramsay would focus on her.

"Come, _bastard_ ," Ramsay reasoned, "you don't have the men. You don't have the horses. And you _don't_ have Winterfell. Why lead those _poor souls_ into _slaughter_? There's no need for a battle. Get off your horse. _Kneel_. I am a man of mercy."

Jon nodded his head. "You're right. There's no need for a battle. Thousands of men don't _need_ to die. Only one of us." He watched Ramsay's brow furrow. "Let's end this the old way: you against me."

Sansa and Maia narrowed their eyes, as they were unaware of Jon's plan. Maia's breath came out into the air, causing fog. The word, _bastard_ , repeated in her head, causing her wonder the Bolton Lord's exact case when she remembered hearing information that he was also a bastard once.

Ramsay laughed. "I keep hearing stories about you, bastard. The way people in the North talk about you: you're the greatest swordsman who ever walked. Maybe you are that good. Maybe not. I don't know if I'd beat you, but I know that my army will beat yours." He shrugged. "I have six thousand men. You have ... _what_? Half that? Not even?"

"Aye," Jon agreed, "you have the numbers. But will your men want to fight for you when they hear you wouldn't fight for them?"

A hint of a smirk graced Ramsay's face as he pointed at Jon. "He's good. _Very_ good." He then licked his lips. "Tell me: will you let your little brother die because you're too proud to surrender?"

"How do we know you have him?" Sansa then questioned with a frown.

The former husband and wife locked eyes, and then Ramsay turned to look at Lord Umber. Smalljon pulled out a dark, severed object from his satchel: _Shaggydog_. Maia released a quiet gasp at the sight of the direwolf's head on the grass.

Jon closed his eyes for a moment, while Sansa shook her head. The two men then stared at each other for a long moment, before Ramsay laid his eyes on his former wife, and finally, Maia.

He cocked his head to the side at the familiar blonde, watching the bruise on her cheek heal nicely. Purple and blue from the wound mixed with the redness of her cheeks, creating a mural on her face. "Lady Maia of the corrupted House Sanders," he smiled, pointing to her cheek. "I never got to express my regret for that. My sincerest apologies."

Maia didn't say a word. She could feel her fingers becoming limp as her grip on the horse's reins grew firmer, as well as the remembrance of his hands on her. She wouldn't allow him to make a fool out of her.

Ramsay faked an expression of false hope. "Did you manage to tell the bastard of my message?"

"Let us not forget who was once a bastard too, _Lord Bolton_. News spreads. _People talk_." Maia held her head high as she scowled. "Jon knows. But be forewarned, it will not change the minds of those who side with House Stark."

Ramsay frowned, eyeing the blonde before releasing a sigh. "Now, if you want to say –"

"You're going to die tomorrow, Lord Bolton." Sansa snarled. "Sleep well."

Sansa made her horse turn before allowing it to gallop back to their camp. She seemed incredibly upset without exactly showing it. Jon looked back at Maia, nodding for her to go. The blonde slapped the reins of her horse and went to follow her, calling out the girl's name in the distance.

Ramsay grinned darkly when the two women left, noticing Jon's face contort. "She's a fine woman – your sister. I look forward to having her back in my bed. Your lady is quite a great woman as well. Beautiful body. Maybe after your death tomorrow I shall take her as another wife." He laughed and looked at the rest of Jon's party. "And you're all fine-looking men. My dogs are _desperate_ to meet you! I haven't fed them for seven days. They're _ravenous_! I wonder which parts they'll try first: your eyes? Your _balls_?"

The group was silent. Jon grit his teeth.

"We'll find out soon enough." Ramsay declared. "In the morning then, _bastard_."

**__________________________**

Sansa had explained to Maia that she was fine. She explained that no matter what Ramsay said, she was _fine_. The blonde knew what she was doing, because all women were expert manipulators in their own right. It was as if they were born with it.

Tormund laughed loudly as Maia was stuck between his sword and her own neck. The sun was setting on their camp, and the only way to lift spirits for the day to come was to practice. Maia allowed Tormund to use her as his own double. She wasn't an expert on sword fighting, so this was practically child's play for him.

"Tick, tick, tick." The Wildling clocked on. "Make your move, m'lady. By now you would've been headless in a real fight."

Maia swiveled around, clashing her own sword against his. Her palms began to sweat, but she still smirked at Tormund's surprise from her move. "I don't fight. I strategized." She reasoned, pushing him off of her as they readied a fighting stance. Maia twirled the sword around her hand, a trick Jon taught her.

The two were about to run at each other when they were stopped by Ser Davos. The knight walked right into the fight, his arms extended. "Enough," he sighed. "You're both wanted at a meeting."

They nodded their heads as Tormund approached Maia, slapping her back. The blonde huffed, handing the sword she borrowed back to the knight in question. She looked behind her at the sky and watched the colors blend seamlessly into the clouds. Only a few hours remained before the battle, and she prayed it wouldn't be their last.


	38. INTERPRETING SIGNS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stark team devises a battle plan. Jon meets with Melisandre to discuss an important topic.
> 
> A/N: Keep reading until the end for a short history on the Traveler!

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

#####  **__________________________**

**"IF** he was smart, he'd stay inside the walls of Winterfell and wait us out."

Maia threw a log into the already small fire before taking her seat next to Sansa. Jon, Ser Davos, and Tormund hunched over a large map, pointing to specific spots they could build a course. It was already dark, the only light outside coming from the moon shining down on their camp. Maia looked to Sansa, noticing the girl was shaking her head as the men talked. She noticed Maia's staring instantly, and whispered, "He's doing exactly what Ramsay wants. It'll be his downfall."

"You should tell him that." Maia replied in a hushed tone, tapping the red-head's hand.

Back at the table, Davos eyed the map suspiciously. "That's not his way. He knows the North is watching. If the other houses sense weakness on _his_ part, they'll stop fearing him. He can't have that. Fear is his power."

Jon lined up the stones on the table, so that one side represented Ramsay's army and the other was his. He matched up the amounts accurately, with Ramsay having more stones. "It's his weakness too." He responded.

"Both of you must know," Maia spoke up as all eyes in the room cast to her, "Ramsay's not afraid of anything. From my ten minutes with him, I can already tell he's not afraid to die." Sansa nodded next to her.

Jon frowned. "His men don't want to fight for him. They're _forced_ to fight for him. If they feel the tide turning ..."

"It's not his men that worry me. It's his horses." Tormund admitted, looking at Davos. "I know what mount the knights can do to us. You and Stannis cut through us like piss through snow."

"We're digging trenches all along our flanks. They won't be able to hit us like Stannis hit you." Jon advised the Wildling. "It will be a double envelopment."

Tormund leaned back, furrowing his brow. Maia remembered learning war tactics like these in her history classes from high school. The double envelopment method was used in some of the greatest wars in U.S. history.

"A pincer-move." Jon noticed his confusion. The Wildling still wasn't getting it as Jon glanced at Davos. "They won't be able to hit us from the _sides_."

Tormund nodded. "Good."

"It's crucial that we let them charge at us," Davos mused, causing Maia to look up. "They've got the numbers. We need the patience."

Maia stood, surprising Sansa when she approached the table. "It's a battle. I know shit about war, but I do know that things go wrong on a number of occasions. What if Jon –" she moved one of the Stark stones forward "– charges first?"

"He _won't_ ," the Onion Knight countered, moving the stone back. "If we let Ramsay buckle our center, he'll pursue. We'll have him surrounded on three sides."

"Did you really think that cunt would fight you man to man?" Tormund asked lowly to his friend beside him.

Jon looked up, shaking his head. "No, but I wanted to make him angry."

Sansa lofted a brow from her spot in the corner. If anyone had a place to say anything in this meeting, it was her. Maia pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I want him coming at us full tilt." Jon then said, turning back to Davos.

Ser Davos nodded. "We should all get some sleep."

"Rest, Jon Snow. No funny business with your woman tonight." Tormund chuckled softly. "We need you sharp tomorrow."

"I'm not _his_ woman." Maia scoffed with a roll of her eyes. Tormund shook her shoulder in response, thinking that this female may have the mind of a Wildling.

The two other men filed out, but Maia noticed Sansa staying in her spot. She knew the red-head wanted to talk to her brother. Jon sat down in his chair and Maia walked over, kissing his cheek. "I'll meet you in the tent."

Jon was suddenly reminded of what he wanted to talk with her that night, knowing that this time was as perfect as he was going to get. He had been putting it off for too long. He grasped her arm before she could leave, advising, "Stay awake. I have something to ask you."

**__________________________**

Maia didn't noticed Jon walk behind her as she stared at the bonfire, neglecting sleep. She didn't see him wander. She didn't see him almost shed a tear. She didn't even witness him slip into Melisandre's tent. She was too lost in her own mind – in the flames before her – until she heard him speak.

"My Lady," he greeted the witch.

Maia moved closer to Melisandre's tent, watching her stare into the cup of fire next to her. Her tent was lit with candles as she sat in the middle of it, a wooden chair placed under her. As it usually was these days, her hair was unkempt, thrown into a messy style. It had been long since that time she threw herself at Jon, and Maia knew there was no bad blood between them, but she couldn't help but grow worried at their topic of conversation.

"You weren't at the war council," he said.

Melisandre took in a deep breath. "I'm not a soldier."

"Neither is Sansa, or Maia." He tried to smile, but found it hard. "Any advice?"

She gave him a hint of a smirk. "Don't lose."

Their eyes turned to the fire in front of her, and Jon found himself being drawn into the color of it. He needed any kind of distraction at this point, which Maia thought to be odd. "If I do – if I fall," he muttered, "don't bring me back."

Maia gripped the edge of the tent's fabric tightly. He couldn't be asking her to do that. Jon Snow was her purpose in this world. He was her reason to _travel_.

"I'll have to try." Melisandre tried to reason.

"I'm _ordering_ you not to bring me back."

She shook her head. "I'm not your servant, Jon Snow."

"You're in _my_ camp. I'm the _Commander_."

"I serve the Lord of Light." She uttered with a sigh. "I do what _He_ commands."

Jon narrowed his eyes. "How do you know what He commands?"

She didn't know what to say. "I ... interpret his signs ... as well as I can."

Maia shook her head from outside the tent. Her mind begged for Melisandre not to fall for Jon's words.

"If the Lord didn't want me to bring you back, how did I bring you back?" The witch questioned. "I have no power – only what _He gives me_ , and He gave me _you_."

Jon paused. "Why?"

"I don't know," she frowned. "Maybe you're only needed for this small part of His plan and nothing else. Maybe He brought you here to die again."

Jon stared into the flames, watching the colors – yellow, orange, and a hint of blue – mix together. "What kind of God would do something like that?"

"The one we've got."

The commander nodded at her words. He did not believe in her God, but the way she spoke of him either urged him to or made him move farther away. Their eyes connected again, and she pointed to him. "If there's anything I do know, it's that you are part of Lady Maia's destiny. I know of everything – she told me. We are the only two who know she is the Traveler, and this is because her path lies with you – to _help_ you – but not in the way that you think."

His brow furrowed. "What are you asking of me?"

Maia stopped looking and leaned her back against the tent. She could just hear Melisandre's sigh as she spoke, "I'm asking you not to marry her."

The blonde's breath caught in her throat. " _What_?" She whispered, but it wasn't heard over the wind and snow. _No_ , there was no way. Maia and Jon hadn't known each other for long, but it seemed like they had. It wasn't the time, nor the place, though she couldn't deny that when two people are irrevocably in love, nothing was in vain.

"How do you know about that?" He asked.

Melisandre didn't answer, continuing her stare into the fire. "If you're the one in the prophecy, trust me when I say that you don't want to marry her. I believe you are the Prince Who Was Promised, but I hope Maia does not become your Nissa Nissa."

Jon walked out of the Red Woman's tent, but not before Maia sprinted from the scene, dark thoughts and prophecies protruding her mind.

**__________________________**

**A/N:** I've begun to realize that I haven't given much information on the legend of the Traveler. I've crafted this whole idea for Maia and her destiny in my head, so I thought I should share the history and more info of the Traveler with everyone!

#### THE TRAVELER

#####  _A SHORT HISTORY_

**"** _Lord of Light! Please, hear our prayers and cast your light upon us! For the Azor Ahai needs a loyal companion: an adventurer; a voyager. We offer you the torching of these false souls in order to create the Traveler. We need not only a Man to vanquish all evil, but a Mortal who leads destiny itself. From the power of nature, we ask you for the Traveler. Valar dohaeris, my Lord, as the night is dark and full of terrors!_ **"**

The idea of the Traveler comes from the religion of the Red God, also known as R'hllor. The first Traveler was a man of no distinction, who was known to travel all around Westeros. After the realization that he wanted more adventure in his mortal life, he convinced a High Priestess, of whom he was close with, to grant him the powers to travel to worlds unknown. After his death, worshippers of R'hllor believe that the Traveler is reincarnated every 1,000 years, so they can travel to Westeros from a different universe and help defeat a Great Other. Most Travelers, despite their area of origination, have last names related to families in Westeros, only furthering theories of R'hllor worshippers. Fanatics believe that the new Traveler is reborn in the last universe the old Traveler visited. They travel from their original universe to one unknown, thus giving them the name, the _Traveler_.

Usually, the Traveler is a companion to the Azor Ahai, helping he or she (because the Prince Who Was Promised is a gender-neutral term in High Valyrian) through trials in their life. Travelers are not immortal, because only death can pay for life. They are _not_ Greenseers, but are often compared to them. A Traveler is not only able to travel through alternative universes - through a source of passage in nature - but also travel through memories and the past. By traveling through a passage of nature, this piece usually relates to the universe they are fated to visit. For Westeros, most passages for Travelers are weirwood trees.

The Traveler is a very important player in destiny, and with a great power such as their's, a target is always put on their back. Not many can know of their true title, in fear that others will use them and/or kill them because of this power.

Like the Prince Who Was Promised, the _Traveler_ is a gender-neutral term. The first Traveler was a man, but they are not limited to that one gender. In fact, the most recent Traveler, Maia Sanders, born in the "Earth 1994" universe, is one of four female Travelers.

**PAST TRAVELERS OF WESTEROS**  
Edward Florent  
Cecil Bracken  
Aggie Forrester  
Horace Blackwood  
Eugene Hightower  
Will Reed  
Lynn Royce  
Cassandra Mallister  
Cloyd Arryn  
Jerome Stokeworth  
Maia Sanders (current)

**NOTE:** All the themes of Westeros and the Red God religion belong to George R. R. Martin. However, I own the idea of the Traveler, incorporated into Westerosi culture. I created the backstory and idea.


	39. BLOOD OF MY BLOOD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon asks Maia a very important question.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

#####  **__________________________**

**IF** there was anything Maia craved in that moment, it was a hot shower. She desired to have warm water rushing down her face, cleansing her body of grime and work. (Lest we forget, she had fallen into a pile of mud over seventy-two hours ago.) But here she was, changing into a pair of underclothes to sleep while feeling the dirt cling to herself as if she were a magnet.

She needed to just _not think_ for a moment. She wanted to not remember that Jon somehow wanted to marry her, or his goddamn prophecy. She didn't want to think about the things she shouldn't be apart of. She was a Traveler, not a part in some God's game. At least, that's what she thought.

Maia stared at her naked body, picking out the points she wished she could change – or _clean_ , for that matter. Her hair felt greasy. Her body felt filthy. She stared at the large, metal pot nestled in the corner of her tent, thinking it could be used as a tub.

The blonde gathered together two Wildling men to help her, after she had clothed herself. She advised them to take the tub, carry it to the stream to fill, and return. They happily obliged, for they couldn't fall asleep either. Maia remembered Davos saying the stream was of perfect use for the horses, but he hadn't fallen in _mud_.

The men came back no little than a few minutes later, sending droplets of water to the floor as they carried the full tub. They set it back down in the corner of the room and Maia thanked them, realizing that for a group of people so talked down, they had their good moments.

Maia instantly threw off her clothes and cascaded herself into the tub, immediately feeling the soot on her skin wash away. The water was cold – _dreadfully cold_ – but as she sat in that tub by the fire, she wanted nothing less. She needed to not think about what she'd heard from Melisandre's conversation. She sunk herself into the small pot before coming up again, running her fingers through her hair. When she opened her eyes, she saw Jon standing in the tent's entryway, staring at her.

"Where did you –?"

She smiled. "Water from the stream. It's cold, but it does the job." She brought the water up, brushing it over her arms. "I needed this ... _mud_ off of me. It was starting to feel too disgusting."

"Understandable," he muttered, removing his chest plate and cloak.

Maia watched him with ease. He took his hair out of the small bun he kept it in, allowing the short length to fly freely. She laid her arm outside the tub, leaning on it as she said, "You wanted to ask me something?" She hoped – more like, _prayed_ – to whatever fucking god was in this world that it wasn't what she was thinking of.

Jon had realized Melisandre's words had struck a chord within him. He knew of the prophecy; the witch had only spoke of it a thousand times. But at the same time, Jon knew this was _his_ life, and he was going to lead it in the way he wanted. He didn't understand how Melisandre found out, though people in his party were known to be eavesdroppers. He was going to do it anyways. Jon had spent so long in pain – in _agony_ – and Gods forbid, that he actually wanted to do something unlike himself for once. He wanted to feel peace, to feel secure. After Ygritte, it was hard, but he had finally found something with Maia, and he knew Ygritte would've wanted him to be happier.

He slid his hand through his hair, allowing the black strands to fall over his face. Jon's heart began to beat fast as he made his way over to her.

Maia smiled as he knelt in front of her, trying to hide her terror when he held her hand. "I did. I have something to ask of you, Maia."

The blonde released a huff. "I would suggest on making it quick. It's so close to being the next day already."

Jon chuckled, almost as if it were a nervous mechanism. "I know ..." He began, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. His grip on her hand softened. "I know we haven't known each other for a long time. I know that when we met, you were promised to another. I know that the time we met, I was in grief over a lost lover. I don't know many things, but I also know that I am madly in love with you."

She looked down at their hands joined together, before glancing up at his eyes. "Jon, you don't have to –"

"Now, I'm tired of people telling me not to do things today. At least, let me get this out." He sighed. "It's been a hard life, Maia. I never wanted to become Lord Commander. I never wanted to feel anything for you, because I couldn't. I never ... wanted to die. But here we both are, gifted by something of the Gods and part of some righteous plan. I want us to go down this path together – until the end of time. You are the blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I have given you my body, so that us two might be one. I have given you my spirit, 'til our life be done.

"I don't have anything to give you. I'm not very sure how these things work exactly. Albeit to all of this, I want to feel whole again, and I'm sure I feel that way around you. You remind me of wholeness, security, and passion. You remind me of things I miss. You remind me that there is still good in this horrific world we live in. The Gods gave me a rare woman and I loved her well."

She sucked air in through her nostrils. Here it comes –

"Lady Maia of House Sanders, I would like to ask for your hand in marriage."

He stared at her – _desperately, anxiously_. Maia finally exhaled, opening her eyes to his own. She slowly shook her head, whispering, "You cannot ask that of me."

"Why _not_?" He stood, beginning to pace before her tub. "Is it because of the time? Is it our age? Most already wed at age thirteen, and I know you're one year older than me, but –"

She grasped his hand, her damp fingers tangling with his own. " _Jon_!" He finally looked over at the call of his name. "It's the night before one of the most important battles in the North. I'm sure it'll be written about in history books. You cannot ask me to marry you when we do not know the outcome of tomorrow. If I were to accept, and then you die tomorrow ... It's unfair."

"Are you saying we're going to lose?"

"No, no. But if you fall, I know there is a possibility that you might not come back – for good." She shook her head. "I ... I'll think about it."

He nodded as she used his hand for support to lift herself from the tub. She watched his eyes wander from her head to toes. Before she could think twice, she pushed her dampness against him, caressing her fingers across his face. "What is marriage compared to when two people love each other?" Her lips just about brushed his own. "I've learned that over the years. Maybe marriage and betrothal is what drove me away from my ex-lover. All I know is that I love you, and I think that's enough."

With her bareness pressed against him, he would've said anything in that moment. He bobbed his head at her words. His breath fanned her cheeks, "You're going to be the death of me, Maia Sanders."

"You know what they say," she grinned slightly. "Find what you love and let it kill you."

His hand cupped her cheek as he eyed her prominent bruise. Hate mixed with care. His blood boiled, and he didn't know if it was for his fury of Ramsay or his excitement for his lady in front of him. "I'll kill them all tomorrow, Maia." He whispered before tasting her lips between his tongue. His other hand went to her breast as he locked it in between his calloused digits. Maia's fingers entwined with his locks, bringing her closer to him once again.

And just as he bit on her lip, she heard him utter, "I'll kill _him_."

**__________________________**

Maia tied his collar for him. She helped put on his chest plate and secured it to his body. She fastened his belt and sheath on his waist.

It was hard to get up that morning. Maia and Jon assisted each other in getting dressed, still tired from the night's festivities. Like most evenings, Jon had nightmares, and thus left him physically exhausted for the day again. Initially, their love-making was to be expected, because neither of them knew if they were going to see each other again on this day. Maia hoped that assumption was wrong.

A horn blew outside, followed by dozens of shouts. Jon looked at Maia, who had just finished braiding her hair. "It's time."

She raised a hand and glided her thumb across his cheek. "I love you." She whispered, planting a light kiss on his forehead. "Don't fight to kill today, Jon. Fight to _win_."

He nodded before they locked arms and made their way outside into the snow. Jon began rallying up all the troops. Sansa stood beside Maia, watching them all get into formation. Jon and the others mounted their horses, ready to move in the early morning sun. As they were about to move, with Jon leading in the front, he looked back, seeing both his sister and lover smiling at him. He gave them one last wave before departing.

Maia watched every single troop pass them. It was moments like these when she wished she knew what part they we at in this story of Westeros and power, but she didn't have Derek anymore to explain. "I pray to the Gods that we have a victory." She mused bitterly.

"Don't worry," Sansa replied. "I have a feeling they might."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peep @ all the "Outlander" references!!!!!!!!!
> 
> -Victoria


	40. THE BATTLE OF THE BASTARDS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle commences.

#### BOOK II: IVĪLĪBAGON

##### CHAPTER FORTY

#####  **__________________________**

**MAIA** had once read that battles can last up to a week. She didn't know if she could survive that, because it had only been an hour, and she was ready to tear her skin off. She stood by the edge of camp, digging her fingernails into her palms as she watched the sun move through the clouds. Snowflakes fell on top of her head and she wished nothing more to see the sight of Jon coming back each passing minute.

Sansa walked through her tent, seeing Maia waiting in the snow. She approached the older woman and laid her hand on her shoulder in comfort. Maia glanced her way, enjoying the red-head's smile. "Waiting will only make you more worrisome," Sansa guided, staring off at the horizon.

"I don't know what else I can do." Maia admitted. "We can't just sit back and do nothing because women cannot include themselves in war. I refuse to stand by idly."

Sansa wrinkled her nose. "Maia, you don't know how to fight in battle."

" _That_ is besides the point." Maia quipped. "Have you ever questioned the rights we are given as women in this time? Are we forever burdened to stay by, watching our men become victorious when our only victory is if we make a pie without burning the bottom? I know I'm incapable of holding a sword, but I feel so ... _useless_. I swear, no one actually thinks of this and it angers me."

The two were silent as the sky grew darker. Maia looked down over the cliff, noticing something unfamiliar. Riding their way, looking like a black mass, was a large army. The blonde's eyes bugged out of her skull – could it be Jon? The men held flags with sigils on them she could not decipher, but she knew they weren't Stark banners. The horses trudged forward, causing Maia to shake her friend's body in astonishment.

"Sansa," she gasped, "what is _that_?"

The other girl looked up, her face immediately lighting up in excitement. She turned to Maia, exclaiming, "Go find our horses. We need to be ready to leave when they arrive."

Still confused, Maia did as she asked. She ran to the mill, where only her and Sansa's horses sat. She untied the rope from them, trying her best to guide the two stallions over as quickly as she could. Maia sprinted with the horses over, shocked to see the army of over five thousand men waiting at their camp. She approached Sansa and an oddly familiar man, handing her friend the reins to her horse.

The man stared at her as Sansa stood with her horse. "Who might you be?"

"This is Lady Maia of House Sanders." Sansa smiled, gesturing between them. "Maia, this is Petyr Baelish. He has offered to lend us the Knights of the Vale to defeat Ramsay."

Maia shook Petyr's hand, still in disbelief at his timely arrival. "We must leave now," he said, hoping onto his own horse. "The battle has already commenced. Hopefully, we will make it in time."

Before she could leave, Maia grasped Sansa's arm. "You didn't tell _anyone_ about this." She whispered. "Why?"

"Sometimes the surprise factor helps you win the fight." Sansa replied.

The two girls nodded at Petyr before mounting their horses. They began riding South for Winterfell, with the three leading the front. After speeding down the snow-covered bluffs, they had made it to a icy hill-top that overlooked Winterfell. The Knights of the Vale waited for Petyr's signal, and as a horn was blown, they came charging forward into the battle below. Maia could just see from the overhang that Bolton soldiers were trying to compress Jon's army inside a ditch, with dead bodies littered on the outside. The fight raged on inside the ring, but Maia could tell the bodies within were becoming too tight, especially with Wun Wun forged right in the middle as he knocked down the Bolton army.

Almost immediately, the Knights of the Vale came crashing into Bolton soldiers. They eliminated them from the first try. Maia spotted Ramsay sitting on the other end of the battle field with two guards at his side, watching his army get slaughtered by the incoming knights. She wished she could see the horror on his face, but she wished she knew if Jon was alive even more.

Sansa and Maia relished in the massacre below, both holding the same smirk. Screams echoed. Blood stained. Fire rippled amongst the armies. But the two women laughed at the defeat.

From far off, Maia witnessed a man – bloodied from head to toe – climb the pile of bodies used to compress them into a circle. She squinted her eyes, noticing the familiar bun hairstyle coated with dirt. She pointed ahead, screaming, "There's Jon!"

Tormund and Wun Wun appeared next to their commander, ashes and blood tainting their entire beings. Ramsay stared at the three in dismay, not knowing what to think of the surprise attack. Maia watched in anticipation, realizing the way Jon was casually flipping his sword in his hands.

"He's going to kill Ramsay." She muttered, turning to Sansa.

At that call, the Bolton leader spun his horse around, allowing him and his guards the right amount of time to leave. He began to head in the direction of Winterfell, and Sansa snarled, "He's going to flee."

"We have to follow," Petyr recommended.

The two girls nodded in approval, and instantly set off to follow Jon and the others. They rode fast and steady, though Maia was not used to riding a horse at such a speed. They trailed Jon, Tormund, and Wun Wun by fifty feet, and rode by the slaughter in shock. Maia had never seen so many corpses in her life. It almost made her sick to her stomach. She slashed her reins to force the stallion to go faster, and soon, they were close enough to watch Wun Wun the Giant plow through Winterfell's wooden doors. Ramsay had tried to plan a siege, and though Jon didn't have an army, he did have a giant.

Sansa and Maia arrived inside the walls of Winterfell as Wun Wun collapsed in the courtyard, a dozen arrows pierced in his skin. Maia turned her head at just the right moment, witnessing Ramsay shoot one last arrow in the giant's eye. A hand clasped over her mouth at the sight of Jon, battered and bloodied. She couldn't see his eyes, but by his stance, she could already tell he was ready to murder anyone in his path, and that _petrified_ her.

They watched Ramsay lower the bow in his hands. His soldiers all aimed their weapons on Jon, careful not to strike. "You suggested one-on-one combat, didn't you?" He glanced around, noticing Jon's soldiers then targeting their bows at him. "I've reconsidered. I think that sounds like a _wonderful_ idea."

Ramsay pulled out an arrow from his sheath, setting it into the bow in under a second. Jon threw down his sword, leaving Maia with wide eyes. He grabbed a spare shield at the moment Sansa and Maia dismounted their horses, observing the arrow hit Jon's shield at the top and just missing his head.

The Bolton sent another arrow, and another, and yet _another_. All pierced the shield Jon held, but did not puncture his body. Jon advanced towards Ramsay quickly, and just as he was about to load another arrow, Jon knocked him into the mud with his shield.

Jon's men lowered their weapons as the two women sprinted to the scene, watching Jon's fist transcend onto Ramsay's face with Tormund by their side. The Wildling had his arm outstretched to cover them as blood splatter everywhere. Jon continued to punch Ramsay's demented face, all the while the former bastard smiled at his defeat. Maia looked down at her skirt, noticing the trim stained with blood – _Ramsay's blood_.

His rhythm slowed as his fist began to throb. Sweat coated his brow. Hairs flew in his face. Blood and soot masked his features. No matter how many times Jon punched Ramsay, he _didn't_ die. The commander then looked up, seeing his sister and lady staring at him in horror. Maia gripped Sansa's arm for her dear life, snowflakes shielding her vision.

Jon finally halted his movements, taking a few breaths of air before standing up from Ramsay's lap. He glared down at the bloody fool, hate deepening within him with every breath the Bolton man took.

He looked around at the thousands of men that cluttered the courtyard of his home. Snow feel atop the bodies. Blood traveled from one to the air, but Jon still found the strength to walk away.


End file.
